


Trust and Destiny

by N16



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Gen, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Knighty Questy, Magic Revealed, Minor Merlin/Freya, Search for Emrys, intelligent arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 28,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27660397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N16/pseuds/N16
Summary: Camelot is full of rumors about Emrys, and Arthur is determined to learn the truth. But his quest for answers may force him to realize how little he knows about the one person he trusts the most.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 317
Kudos: 596





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> One thing I've been working on since re-entering the world of fanfic is not apologizing for my writing. When I post new stories or chapters, I almost always feel nervous and have doubts as to whether they're good enough to be worth posting. So I told myself that what I write is what I write, and I can post it or not, but I'm not going to apologize from the start for it not being good enough. And I've tried really hard to adhere to that.
> 
> That being said, I believe this story genuinely needs a disclaimer.
> 
> This was my first Merlin fanfic, and I'm aware that it has some significant writing issues, especially (although certainly not exclusively) regarding plot/structure/pacing. I'm doing some minor editing and cleanup as I move it over from FFnet, but I'm not doing any major rewriting to try to address those issues. So just be aware, the quality of this is lower compared to my other fics. (On the other hand, it's arguably one of my more popular stories on FFnet, so make of that what you will. 🤷)
> 
> I don't own _Merlin_.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked thoughtfully.

"Yes, sire?"

"Do _you_ believe the rumors?"

Arthur turned away from the window, curious to hear his servant's thoughts, only to find that Merlin was unusually focused on setting out the king's dinner.

"What rumors?" he asked distractedly, his voice light and casual.

Arthur snorted at him. "You're joking, right?" Merlin finally looked up, staring at him blankly. "The rumors about this… Emrys. Do you believe them?"

Merlin shrugged. "I guess it depends on the rumors. There are an awful lot of them."

"Yes," Arthur agreed with a sigh. "There are." The rumors had moved like wildfire through Camelot in recent months. They seemed to have started somehow with the druids, but all of Arthur's attempts to get to the root had proven futile. And while Merlin was typically helpful for talking out these sorts of problems, he had been annoyingly useless on this particular topic. Try as he may, Arthur couldn't seem to get him to say more than two words about Emrys.

"He might be my greatest ally in leading Camelot to prosperity. He might be my greatest enemy and bring the kingdom to its knees. He might mean to enchant me and use me as a puppet king, forcing me to bring back magic." Arthur recited the different possibilities he had heard, pacing agitatedly.

"You should eat, sire." Merlin gestured to the meal he had so carefully laid out, but Arthur ignored him. Honestly, he felt a little annoyed with his servant. The entire kingdom was talking about Emrys. Why wouldn't Merlin?

"They all seem to agree that he's a sorcerer, which doesn't bode well for the 'greatest ally' theory. And yet… I don't get the _sense_ that he's an enemy. I mean, based on the rumors. The overall tone of them isn't exactly hostile, is it?"

"Your dinner is getting cold, sire."

"Honestly, Merlin, not everything is about food," Arthur grumbled, finally taking his seat. But as he lifted his goblet, he gave Merlin a sideways glance. "And what's with all the 'sires' tonight? I half expect you to start bowing any minute."

Merlin's lips twitched. "Don't worry. I think I can resist the impulse, should it arise."

Arthur scoffed, feeling tempted for a moment with a smile of his own. But he set his goblet down again without actually taking a drink, and the heaviness immediately settled back over him.

"A young man came to court today," he said, finally getting around to the events that were truly on his mind. "He said he had been traveling with a trader who had a written copy of the prophecy about Emrys. He was bringing it here, to try to sell it to us. But they were attacked on the road, and scroll was stolen. He believes it to have been Lord Elric's men."

"You don't say?" Merlin said in mock surprise. "You know, I _was_ standing right there when he said it."

Arthur waved a hand dismissively. "Yes, but since when have I ever been able to count on you actually listening? Anyway, Lord Elric is not exactly friendly in his feelings toward Camelot. It doesn't sit well to have him know this prophecy while I'm fumbling in the dark."

"I know," Merlin agreed quietly.

A plan had been forming in Arthur's mind all day, although he wasn't sure until this moment that he was going to act on it. "We leave at dawn, Merlin. I cannot just sit here and wait to see if this Emrys ever appears. And right now, retrieving this prophecy is our only lead."

"I'll see to it we're ready," Merlin said, and unsubtly nudged Arthur's plate closer. When that failed to work, he reached over and grabbed a piece of meat from it. Arthur swatted his hand, but Merlin expertly dodged him.

"There's no point in letting it go to waste," he pointed out practically, taking a bite. "If you want to eat your dinner, eat your dinner. Otherwise, it's just rude not to share."

Arthur scowled and took a bite, but quickly fell back to just poking at it.

"I think… I think he must be an enemy." He felt uneasy saying it. It just didn't sound or feel right. But instead of feeling the vitriol or fear he always remembered from his father's tirades against magic, Arthur just felt… disappointed. Like he _wanted_ Emrys to be real and to be an ally. As ridiculous as that was.

"Why do you think that?" Merlin asked.

Arthur shrugged. "Why else would he hide? And for gods' sake, Merlin, why are you standing over there? I can't see you when you hover behind me like that." This was quickly becoming one of Arthur's pet peeves. He wasn't sure when it started, and he was well aware of the possibility – even probability – that Merlin had always done it. But he'd only noticed it recently, and it irritated him to no end.

"I didn't realize you liked looking at me," Merlin quipped as he moved into Arthur's line of vision.

Arthur gave him a dirty look. "I like being able to see people's face's when I'm talking to them. It's weird to talk to an empty room and then have someone reply behind you."

_It's weird not to be able to read someone's expression._

For instance, right now. Merlin glanced down at the floor and smiled, and Arthur would have missed it if Merlin were still hovering behind him. In fact, Merlin looked almost _smug_. Or… maybe proud?

"What?" he demanded.

Merlin shrugged a little bit. "It's just… surprisingly unprat-like. Wanting to look at people when they talk. It's not all elitist and royal. Like you're the only person that matters."

Whatever Arthur had expected, that wasn't it, and he waited half a moment before he was sure a punchline wasn't coming. "Oh. Thanks. I think." And then he realized Merlin was committing the second pet peeve that Arthur had recently noticed. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Changing the subject." Arthur picked a piece of carrot off his plate and threw it at Merlin's head, and Merlin batted the vegetable away irritably. "It's something you seem to do a lot when I'm trying to talk about something important."

"What were we talking about then?"

"I asked you why Emrys would hide unless he's an enemy. What do you think? Is it possible he's an ally?"

"I think," Merlin said carefully, "that hiding doesn't necessarily make him an enemy."

"Really?" Arthur was genuinely surprised. "How so?"

Merlin stared at him like he was stupid. "Sorcery _is_ still illegal in Camelot, Arthur."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Still?" he echoed, and he saw Merlin's eyes widen slightly. "You think one day it won't be?"

All expression disappeared from Merlin's face, like a door slamming closed. "I suppose that depends on what happens with Emrys," he said blandly. "Should he prove to be an ally, I suspect you'll need to… reevaluate Camelot's stance on magic."

Arthur snorted and pushed the uneaten plate of food away. "Reevaluate the stance on magic. Wouldn't _that_ be opening a can of worms," he muttered. "But why would he _lie_ if he's an ally? I know—" he continued before Merlin could answer, holding up a hand. "I _know_ it's illegal. But if he's an ally, wouldn't he find a way to tell me? And why _would_ he be an ally to a kingdom that executes sorcerers anyway?"

It had been pointless asking Merlin to move, because Arthur couldn't read the look on his face anyway. This was the third thing he had recently noticed with Merlin. Sometimes he turned into this… other Merlin. One who wasn't an idiot. One who sometimes asked Arthur hard questions and said wise things, and above all, one who Arthur couldn't _read_. His tone was careful, his face neutral. Arthur usually felt like he knew Merlin completely, but when this other Merlin showed up, sometimes Arthur felt like he didn't know his servant at all. The feeling discomfited him.

"Don't you think it's possible, Arthur," Merlin suggested, "that Emrys could respect you as king even if he disagrees with you? Don't you think it's possible that he would be your ally because… well, because he believes in you?"

Merlin was staring at the table, and although Arthur watched him for a long minute, he would not look up to meet the king's eyes.

"No," Arthur said finally. "I don't think it's possible. Why would he believe in me when he knows that if I ever caught him, I'd have him executed?"

Merlin shrugged, still staring at the table. "Maybe he doesn't know that for sure. Maybe he thinks there's a chance that if he proves himself, you'd change your mind about magic. Arthur, someday you'll have to make a choice about what paths you're willing to consider."

Arthur shook his head disbelievingly. "Honestly, Merlin, sometimes I'm amazed by how naïve you are. Regardless of his intentions, he's a criminal, and Emrys is a fool if he thinks I'd break the laws for one man." With a sigh, Arthur pulled his plate back to himself and began to eat. And he couldn't keep the disappointment out of his voice as he repeated, "I think he must be our enemy."

* * *

"So Arthur means to confront Lord Elric?" Gaius asked in surprise.

"I don't know if he means it to be a confrontation," Merlin admitted with a frown as he loaded up his bag. "He's only taking a small group. Leon, Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan. And me, of course," he added as an afterthought. "I think he might intend to take it by stealth, not force."

"You mean steal it," Gaius said dryly. "That doesn't sound like Arthur. And for goodness sake, Merlin, you must leave me with _some_ supplies! I do have an entire town to tend to, even with the king gone!"

"Sorry!" Merlin hastily put a few bottles back on the shelf. "You just know how these outings always go! Someone is bound to end up with an arrow or sword in them at some point, and I can't always heal them with magic!"

When Gauis looked away, he quickly grabbed one of the bottles again and stuffed it back into the bag.

"I think Arthur is a little desperate," he admitted, returning to their original topic of conversation. "Normally he would try to approach this diplomatically, maybe try to buy the scroll or even just ask nicely to see it. But he knows Elric is no friend to Camelot, and he's completely unnerved by all the rumors about Emrys flying around for the past few months. Honestly, I think he'd do just about anything to find out what's in the prophecy at this point."

Merlin sat down at the table and watched Gaius work for a long moment.

"Gaius?"

"No."

"What? I didn't even ask—"

"You were going to ask whether you should just tell Arthur the prophecy," Gaius said pointedly, and he stared at Merlin until his ward lowered his eyes guiltily. "But you cannot tell Arthur the contents of the prophecy without raising suspicion. He'll wonder how you know. He'll wonder what else you know. And without telling him the entirety of the truth, there's no reason for him to believe you any more than any of the other stories floating around. Unless…"

Gaius trailed off and took the seat across the table from Merlin.

"Unless?"

"Unless you're ready to tell him everything."

Merlin's mouth dropped open in shock, but the only sounds that came out were incoherent splutters. "Tell – what? Arthur?" he shook his head, not unlike a dog after a bath. "Gaius, are you _seriously_ telling me that you think I should tell Arthur everything?"

"No. I'm not."

Merlin felt himself deflate. For just a brief moment, he had felt something. Hope, he realized. He had felt hope. Terror, of course. And uncertainty and disbelief. But mixed up in all that… hope, that maybe the time was finally coming when he wouldn't have to continue piling on the lies and secrets.

"I don't know when the right time is, Merlin," Gaius admitted. "I don't think it's yet, but I honestly don't know. Uther is dead. Arthur is king. But the people are still scared of magic, and Arthur has been on edge since these rumors started. But I also don't know if the rumors will stop. I don't know if there will be a better time. So no, I don't think you should tell Arthur now. But… it's possible. And ultimately, it's a decision you'll have to make yourself."

Merlin sighed. "I have to tell him soon, Gaius. I can't keep it from him forever."

Gaius smiled at him, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "I know, Merlin. But you've been saying that for years."

"Yeah," Merlin said heavily. "I know."


	2. Chapter 2

"I have an idea. For when we find Emrys."

Arthur turned around to raise his eyebrows at the man riding several feet behind him. "When? I like your optimism, Sir Leon."

Leon chuckled. "If he's real, we'll find him, sire. Sooner or later." The laughter faded with the last few words, and Arthur heard what he wasn't saying. _Or he'll find us_.

"What's the idea?"

"I was thinking, when we find him, if he _does_ appear to be an ally and we decide we want to be… friendly, what if we had him swear an oath of fealty?"

"Huh." Arthur turned the idea over in his mind. "Like the noble houses and the knights?"

"A man can lie with an oath as easily as with any other words," Gwaine pointed out, and Leon nodded, conceding the point.

"But it might send a message. And if his intentions are not honest, it would force him to actually make the lie. It's not much of a safety net," he admitted. "More symbolic than anything."

"No, I like it," Arthur said with a frown and a nod. "What do you think, Merlin?"

Merlin eyed him thoughtfully. "Would you want a sorcerer to swear fealty to you, sire?"

Arthur laughed. "Good point. There are a lot of 'ifs' in that plan, and a friendship between myself and a sorcerer is unlikely. But still, the idea has merit. If such a day should ever come."

"You're considering it," Merlin pointed out, and although his words sounded sly, his face was serious. "So perhaps it's not _that_ unlikely."

The knights laughed along with Arthur.

"It's becoming a strange world, isn't it?" Elyan said through the laughter. "Talking about a sorcerer swearing fealty to the king of Camelot."

* * *

"Honestly Merlin, could you make _any_ more noise?" Arthur hissed as Merlin stumbled after stepping on a branch and snapping it. Behind them, he heard more than one knight snicker.

"Sorry," he muttered. "But this would be much easier if we were on the road instead of fumbling through bushes!"

" _You're_ fumbling through bushes. The rest of us are walking like competent adults," Arthur snapped, but by his tone, the insult was halfhearted at best. "Quiet – look, another patrol."

The group watched silently as another band of men rode by on the road below them.

"Mercenaries," Leon muttered

"Sloppy ones, though," Gwaine said thoughtfully. "They're hardly paying attention."

"And they're making more noise than Merlin," Arthur added, making Merlin scowl. "It's not their skill that worries me. It's the sheer _number_ of them. Elric isn't a king. Why would he hire this kind of force?"

The group watched until the band was out of sight, then began making their way through the woods once more.

Once they reached Elric's estate, they had no reason to feel any better.

"He's gathering a full army!" Elyan choked out. The estate – for it was too small to be properly called a castle – was crawling with armed men. Some of them wore Elric's crest, but a good many were clearly muscle-for-hire.

They sat in silence for a minute or two watching before Leon voiced the question on all of their minds.

"What's your plan, sire?"

Whatever Arthur might have been feeling, he kept it contained. His face was impassive and his voice even. "I had initially hoped to speak with Elric. But I can't believe it's a coincidence that he's gathering an army right after getting his hands on the prophecy. And I can't afford for him to refuse us."

"You mean to steal the prophecy." It wasn't a question, and Percival's voice betrayed no surprise.

Arthur's face tightened at Percival's choice of words, but he nodded. "Yes. I mean to steal it."

* * *

The group retreated from Elric's estate, fortuitously stumbling upon a cave in the side of a cliff that allowed them to stay out of sight and speak without fear of discovery.

"The estate is small," Arthur reasoned, "so there aren't that many places it could be." He spotted Merlin and Elyan sharing a look and huffed in exasperation. "What?"

"What?" Merlin echoed back, eyes innocent.

"That look!"

Elyan ruined it by snickering. "Just… you calling that small," he explained. "It certainly seems large enough to me for hiding something as small as a scroll."

Arthur felt a small and unexpected flash of shame as it occurred to him that he had seen the modest homes both Elyan and Merlin had grown up in.

"Okay," be conceded. "Not that small. But it wouldn't have a set of vaults like Camelot. Beyond that…"

"Beyond that, we know nothing," Gwaine finished for him. "Have you ever seen the inside of Lord Elric's estate?"

"No," Arthur admitted. "We'll have to find a way inside and just… search. We can split up and cover more of it that way."

"No."

Arthur raised his eyebrows at his servant, who was inexplicably smiling.

"No?"

"Send four knights and a king in to sneak around?" Merlin laughed. "No, I think our best bet is to send in one inconspicuous person to get the lay of the house and figure out where it's hidden. And maybe, should the chance arise, to steal it. After all…" and Merlin's smile turned into a cocky smirk, "people always underestimate a servant."


	3. Chapter 3

They forewent a fire when they set up camp that night, not wanting to risk someone seeing the smoke. So they ate the dried meats that Merlin had packed for dinner instead of cooking, and everyone went to bed early. First thing in the morning, Merlin was going to try to sneak in as a servant and casually make his way through the estate until he was able to steal the scroll.

Arthur was not fond of this plan, but he had to admit it made sense. And Merlin seemed bizarrely calm about it. He hadn't shown any nerves at all.

"Admit it," Merlin said, after having been asked yet again (this time by Percival) whether he was sure he wanted to do this alone, "you lot are just jealous. You always get to be the heroes while I'm stuck making dinner. This time, I get to save the day."

Arthur was well aware this would not be the first time he had ever saved the day, but he did have to admit Merlin rarely got the glory for it. So he tried to stamp down his own nerves and assure himself Merlin would be just fine.

Lying on the ground that night, listening to the snores around him, Arthur tried to push his thoughts away from tomorrow. Unsurprisingly, he found himself automatically thinking about the topic that had consumed him more and more over recent weeks. It was, he admitted to himself, becoming a bit of an obsession.

_Emrys_. Blasted Emrys.

"Merlin?" he whispered. "You awake?"

A grunt to his left told him where his servant was, and also told him while he might not be fully asleep, he definitely wasn't awake.

"Do you think it would be lonely?" He wasn't sure where the question had come from, but now that it had occurred to him, he knew he would be thinking about it all night.

"D'Ithnkwhtslnly?" 

"Being a sorcerer. Like Emrys."

The silence stretched long enough that Arthur thought maybe Merlin was asleep after all, but when Merlin finally spoke, there was no trace of sleep in his voice.

"Did you just ask me whether I think it would be lonely to be a sorcerer?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Well… yes," Arthur admitted. "I mean, Emrys – do you think he has other sorcerers around him who know?"

"Like a little sorcerer's club?" Arthur wished he could see Merlin's face in the dark, because his tone gave nothing away.

"Yes, Merlin," he said irritably. "Like a little sorcerer's club. Or, you know… just friends who know. Do you think there's a town somewhere where Emrys lives and everybody knows him and he has a normal life? And we're just sitting around the castle like idiots, unable to find him, even though there are dozens of people out there who know exactly where he is, but are just unwilling to tell us?"

"You should sleep, Arthur." Merlin sounded dismissive, but he didn't sound tired himself, so Arthur persisted.

"I'm serious, Merlin. Do you think people out there know?"

He heard Merlin sigh. "I think…" he began, then trailed off. When he started again, his voice was so quiet Arthur could barely hear him. "I think if he's a friend, then no, there aren't many people who know."

"You always assume he's a friend," Arthur mused. "Why do you think he wouldn't tell people?"

"If he's loyal to you, then I don't think he'd want lots of people to know and not have you know. Maybe just one or two people, like his family, if anyone. But I can't imagine anyone who is as… committed to you, as the rumors say. Anyone who has done as much for you as the rumors say. I can't imagine him telling other people and not you. Maybe he'd be crazy to do so, but I believe he'd come to you first, even before telling his friends."

It was hard to tell with the whispering, but sometimes when Merlin talked about these things, he just sounded so _sure_. Also, it seemed Merlin had heard some rumors that hadn't made their way to Arthur yet. What had Emrys supposedly done for him?

Arthur knew he should let Merlin sleep, but he couldn't quite let it go.

"Why wouldn't he tell me, then? I mean, sooner or later he'd have to, right? Why not just do it?"

"I don't know," Merlin said, starting to sound irritable. "Maybe you're not the only one in the world who has a destiny to fulfill, Arthur. With these prophecies out there, maybe he feels he's destined to protect you. And if he reveals himself to you and you kill him or banish him, then he can't protect you anymore. And maybe fulfilling that destiny is more important to him than having people know his secret. Maybe it's not worth the risk, no matter how much he wants you to know."

"You almost sound as though you know him," Arthur said suspiciously.

"You asked my thoughts, Arthur," Merlin said after a long pause, the words coming slowly. Maybe he was sleepy after all. "Those are my thoughts."

"Thank you," Arthur said. "For your thoughts. Get some sleep. You have a big day tomorrow. I'm sorry I woke you."

"It's all right."

Arthur drifted off quickly, and therefore almost missed what Merlin whispered a few minutes later.

"And… yes, Arthur. I think he's probably lonely."

* * *

No big deal. Just get into the house, find the scroll, and get out. Merlin was used to flying by the seat of his pants.

The trick was just to look busy. Walk purposefully.

So that's what he did. He got in the front door without anyone blinking an eye, and he wandered confidently until he found the kitchens. He was able to spend a few minutes there hovering and eavesdropping before the cook accused him of being there to swipe food and kicked him out.

Honestly, it wasn't that different from being in Camelot, except everyone here seemed on edge and nervous in a way the servants in Camelot didn't. Merlin got the sense Lord Elric wasn't a particularly merciful or kind master.

Not that merciful and kind were necessarily the first words that came to mind to describe Arthur. But he was…respectful.

No, that wasn't quite right either.

Well, he wasn't cruel, at least. And he was a good man. Yes, a prat and a dollophead, but somehow still good.

And asking _so many_ questions.

Honestly, if Merlin got caught and Elric killed him, it would be Arthur's fault, because he couldn't help being distracted by the conversation they had last night.

_Do I think sorcerers get lonely?_ Really? After the better part of a decade serving Arthur, the royal prat picked _now_ to get philosophical about magic?

But maybe it wasn't a bad thing. After all, if Arthur was wondering whether sorcerers get lonely, it meant he was thinking of sorcerers as people. Of _Emrys_ as a person.

Merlin confirmed Elric was in the dining room, then began his search in earnest. Without Arthur around, he used magic liberally to mask his comings and goings. He could easily unlock and lock doors and keep people from noticing him.

It took some time, but honestly, in the end, it seemed almost _too_ easy to find the scroll in Elric's desk.

And then he had it in his hand: the prophecy of the Once and Future King. The prophecy that would tell Arthur that he and Emrys were two sides of a coin. It would tell Arthur he was destined for great things, and he would accomplish those things with Emrys by his side.

All Merlin needed was for Arthur to _believe_ it.

Merlin was out of the house and halfway to the road before the alarm sounded. At first he was sure it couldn't have anything to do with him, because how could they have discovered the missing scroll so quickly?

And then he realized that it didn't matter _why_ the alarm was raised; he was a servant fleeing the premises. They would shoot first and ask questions later.

Which they did.

When he heard voices yelling at him to stop, he discarded all pretense and broke into a run. He veered to the left, abandoning the idea of making it to the road and just trying to make it to the trees, running as quickly as he could. And for once in his life, he didn't trip or fall as he ran.

Then he felt the first arrow pierce his back. And he did stumble then. But he kept running.

He was just inside the trees when he felt the second arrow through his shoulder.

He was still running seconds later when he saw four knights and a king rushing towards him, swords drawn.

He didn't hit the ground until he reached Arthur.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the chapters have varied quite a bit in length, and will continue to do so (despite my best attempts to even it out some). This one is short, but the next few are longer, so hopefully it balances some in the end. Thank you for the comments, and thanks for reading!

He was alive. Arthur could see his chest moving, hear the gasping breaths.

But there was so much blood.

He could hear yelling as Elric's men came closer. Leon was watching him, waiting for orders.

Fight or flee?

Merlin let out a gasp that had a gurgle in it.

"Back to the cave," Arthur ordered. "Only engage if we must."

* * *

Elric's men gave up more easily than Arthur expected.

"He knows the contents of the prophecy," Percival pointed out. "It's probably not worth losing men just to get it back, assuming Merlin even got it. Especially since they'll assume we've already read it. And if Merlin didn't get it, then there's certainly no need to lose men chasing us."

Arthur hadn't checked for the prophecy yet, though. There would be time enough for that later. Right now, he was trying to treat Merlin's wounds. Unfortunately, Merlin was the member of the party who knew the most about treating wounds. Which normally worked out well, since Merlin wasn't a knight and should be the least likely to be injured.

Should be.

They were holed up in the cave again, the others keeping watch at the entrance while Arthur and Gwaine tried to figure out how to slow the bleeding.

"The arrow has to come out eventually," Gwaine said grimly, and Arthur winced, but nodded. He wrapped his hand firmly around the arrow, ready to pull.

"Who goes there?" Arthur froze at the sound of Leon's call, his sword in his hand the moment he heard an unfamiliar voice at the entrance to the cave.

"I mean you no harm, knights of Camelot," the voice said softly. "I came because I was called. The Old Religion summoned me here."

"You're a druid," Percival realized.

"Yes," the man admitted. "I am a healer. And I am needed here, am I not?" He sounded genuinely uncertain.

Arthur knew he should send him away. Possibly even arrest him. Technically, he supposed he could even kill him. But he said he was a healer. And while Merlin had been gasping for breath mere minutes ago, now Arthur could hardly tell whether he was breathing at all.

What had Merlin said to him?

_Arthur, someday you'll have to make a choice about what paths you're willing to consider._

The king winced at the memory of his servant's wise, and almost prophetic, words, but he didn't hesitate.

"Bring him in."

* * *

The druid removed the arrows, with help from Gwaine and Arthur. He was able to slow the bleeding, and even ease Merlin's breathing. But the bleeding didn't stop, and Merlin's pulse continued to grow weaker.

It occurred briefly to Arthur that the druid might not truly intend to help them. That he may be an enemy who wished Merlin dead.

But even the idea was absurd. It would make sense for a druid to want Arthur dead, but Merlin? What would be the point in killing a servant? Besides, the druid _seemed_ to be genuinely trying to help. Arthur watched as he finished bandaging the wound in Merlin's shoulder, looking away only when the man chanted softly over it, his eyes flashing gold.

"Are you Emrys?" he asked quietly when the druid finished. And to his surprise, the druid laughed aloud, seeming far more amused by the question than Arthur thought appropriate.

"No, I am not Emrys, my king."

_My king_. The words sounded strange on the tongue of someone who had been chanting a spell only moments before.

"I am merely one who wants to see destiny fulfilled. Who wants to see the future you will create with Emrys. But unfortunately, I am afraid I am not powerful enough to save that future."

Arthur went cold with dread. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying your friend is dying, and I cannot stop it," the druid said simply. Arthur could see the pity in his eyes. "But there is one who can, if you're willing."

"Magic," Arthur whispered, already knowing the answer.

"In a sense," the druid conceded, "but not sorcery. Not as such. Ride east half a day, and you'll find a lake. The Lady of the Lake has the power to heal your friend. If you are unwilling, I will stay here with you until the end and do what I can to make his passing easier."

No. Arthur rejected those words immediately. There would be no talk of "making Merlin's passing easier."

Merlin would live.


	5. Chapter 5

The druid did what he could to bind Merlin's injuries and prepare him for travel, but the fact remained there was no good way to transport a man who had two arrow wounds in him.

It took them nearly two hours to get back to the horses, with each of them trading off carrying Merlin's limp form. He woke once, only briefly. Percival laid him on the ground while they prepared the animals to ride, and Merlin's eyes blinked open just for a moment.

"Arthur?" he mumbled, and in an instant, Arthur was by his side. But that's all Merlin said before losing consciousness again.

They had to move at a gentle enough pace for Merlin, and it was dark, so they had to move cautiously. The slow ride was torture for Arthur.

The same scene kept playing through his mind. The bells and shouting in the distance, telling them something was wrong. Merlin finally appearing through the trees, his face determined, but also pale and pained, his eyes unfocused. Then Arthur had noticed something off about his gait, and for a moment he'd thought, _That clumsy idiot, he's going to trip, isn't he?_

And then Merlin had stumbled, although he didn't fall. But it was enough for Arthur to see the arrows.

_The arrows sticking out of Merlin._

How many warriors had Arthur seen fall in battle? More than he could count, but those were warriors. Not skinny little servants.

Merlin had been with him longer than most of his knights. He's been with him before Gwen, before the round table, before he was even king. Every big moment of Arthur's life, tragic or wonderful, Merlin had been by his side. Even when Arthur had specifically forbidden Merlin to join him on a task, he would still turn around at some point to see Merlin matter-of-factly following behind. As though it should be obvious that his place was at Arthur's side, regardless of what Arthur thought.

Merlin was the one constant in his life. The one thing he could always depend upon.

And now, unless magic saved him, he would die. And from what Arthur had seen, magic was much more likely to turn on you than it was to help.

Finally, just as the sun rose, they saw the sparkle of light reflecting off the water up ahead. And when they got there, Merlin was still breathing. Only just, but he was still breathing. They had made it in time. All they needed now was to find the woman. But there were no houses or huts visible along the shoreline in either direction, and no sign of life from the other side of the lake.

"Hello?" Arthur yelled, and his voice echoed back to him from the mountains across the water. "Are you there? We need help!"

"Arthur Pendragon."

It took him a moment to find her because she stood in the lake itself, not on the shore. She had dark hair and, like the lake, she was beautiful.

"You know me?" Arthur asked, his voice coming out rough. "Have we met?"

"I owe you a great debt," she said softly, her voice carrying across the water as she walked towards him. "You once freed me from a terrible captivity."

"I did?" The woman was familiar, but he couldn't pinpoint why. He felt he should remember her. Not because of her beauty, but because there was something about her that felt larger than what his eyes saw. When he looked at her, he felt a level of power and sorrow he did not think he would forget.

No. Not sorrow. That wasn't quite right. It was like sorrow, but… healed. Like the scars of sorrow.

But regardless of whether he remembered her, she said she owed him a debt. And he was not above using that.

"If you owe me anything, please…" he lifted Merlin from the ground and carried him to the edge of the water. "Heal him."

The woman's gaze fixed on Merlin's pale face, her own eyes filling with horror.

"He is hurt, and I… I cannot save him. Help him, and you are free from any debt to me."

"No," she said, shaking her head, and the devastation in her face made Arthur unsure whether it was a refusal of his request or just denial of the situation.

"Please," he said again. And the woman stood up straighter, although she still did not look away from Merlin.

"No," she repeated. Arthur felt his breath knocked out of him. What could he do? Would begging make any difference? Could he threaten her?

"I will not heal him for you, Arthur Pendragon, and I will not do it in return for a debt. I will heal Merlin, for his sake and for my own. My debt to you remains unpaid. Bring him to me."

It took Arthur a moment to process the sudden reversal. "You'll do it?" But even as he asked, he was clumsily splashing closer to her, moving as quickly through the water as his armor would allow.

He laid Merlin in the water in front of her, where he floated easily. The woman reached out and pulled him closer. "Leave us," she ordered, and Arthur backed up hastily, rejoining the knights on the shore.

"Merlin," the woman called to him gently, and although her words carried to them, Arthur knew this was no performance. The words were meant for Merlin, and they were spoken with a tenderness that made Arthur feel as though he were intruding on something private.

"Merlin, you must wake now," she murmured, and she stroked the back of her hand along Merlin's temple. "Your time in this world is not yet over."

Merlin gasped, and Arthur's stomach leapt with hope. As he watched, Merlin's eyes fluttered and then opened. He floundered a bit, realizing he was in water, and the woman grasped his hands, helping him find his feet. The entire time, his eyes never left her face.

Nor, Arthur realized, did her eyes leave his.

"Freya?" Merlin whispered, dazed and awed. "Is it you?"

The woman laughed a little and nodded. Merlin pulled her closer, his mouth moving as though trying to form words, but not finding what he wanted to say.

"Freya," he repeated finally.

"Merlin."

_They keep saying each other's names,_ Arthur thought bemusedly. _But who_ is _she?_

"Is it really you?" Merlin asked again.

"Yes, Merlin." Freya reached out and lightly touched his cheek, as though she wasn't entirely sure he was real either. "It's me."

"Are you…" Merlin cut off, then let out a sound that was either a laugh or a sob. "I mean, I worry about you. I know that sounds ridiculous…"

Freya closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his. "I am well, Merlin," she assured him softly. "You chose a lovely place to put me to rest. I am at peace here as I never was in life."

_Never was in life..._ She had died, Arthur realized. She had died, and Merlin had been the one to put her to rest.

_Oh, Merlin._

It was definitely sobbing and not laughter coming from Merlin now. "I miss you."

"As I miss you," she said gently, crying as well. "I am sorry you were hurt, but selfishly, I am glad I have one more chance to see you. To touch you."

"I don't want to leave you again," Merlin whispered desperately, but Freya shook her head.

"I love you, Merlin, but our destinies lie separately now. I am at peace. And you… your destiny still lies ahead of you. You have great things yet to do."

They were both weeping in earnest now, wiping the tears off of each other's cheeks. But even through her tears, Freya couldn't seem to stop smiling at Merlin.

"I love you," Merlin whispered, cradling her face with his hands. Then he leaned down and kissed her gently.

For a moment, she kissed him back. And then slowly, she dissolved back into water, sliding through his hands and into the lake, leaving Merlin standing alone.

Arthur finally looked away, and each of the knights looked exactly how he felt. Shocked and confused and worried, and a little bit embarrassed to have witnessed something so private.

Merlin stood there long enough that Gwaine took a tentative step toward the lake, and Arthur wished he'd had the nerve to go to Merlin first. But before Gwaine reached the water, Merlin turned back around, eyes red and nose running, and slowly made his way towards them.

"You all right, Merlin?" Gwaine asked, and Merlin nodded, but then he stumbled and Gwaine helped him sit down on the shore.

"Is, uh, is it healed?" Merlin asked after a moment of silence, and he tugged at his shirt, trying fruitlessly to see behind him. "I mean, I don't feel it anymore – is there any sign of the arrow?"

"Arrows," Arthur corrected him, relieved he was talking, and additionally relieved he was talking about his wounds and not about the woman. "Plural. Here, let me see."

He tugged up at Merlin's shirt. There were two scars in his back where the arrows had hit, but they didn't even look red or bruised. Just shiny and white and healed.

"Good as new," Arthur said. "How do you feel?"

Merlin thought for a moment. "Tired. A little sore, I guess. A little disoriented. Obviously. Oh!"

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a soggy wad. His face fell as he watched it fall apart in his hands.

Arthur took it from him, but the scroll had been soaked first in blood and then in water. He tried to unroll it, but it stuck to itself and fell apart more. In the end, it was just chunks of paper stained pink with illegible scrawls barely visible.

"I'm sorry," Merlin said, staring at it in disappointment. "All of that for nothing."

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't be sorry," he said firmly, not letting his own disappointment show through. "I'd rather have you alive than have the prophecy."

"I'd rather have both," Merlin muttered, and Arthur let himself laugh, even as he eyed the wads of ruined paper longingly.


	6. Chapter 6

After they left the lake, they rode in complete silence for nearly an hour. Even Gwaine was quiet. 

Normally, the ride back to Camelot would take less than a day, but the group moved slower than usual. Part of that was out of concern for Merlin, despite his seemingly perfect health, and part of it was simply because the group was tired, both mentally and physically. They had watched Merlin nearly die, they had ridden all night to make it to the lake, and they had witnessed… something. Something intense and emotional and, try as Arthur did to understand it, something that just didn't make sense.

Merlin had been in _love_. And the woman he loved had apparently died. They'd watched him weep for her. They'd watched him kiss her. His time with her had obviously been something big and important, even life-changing for him.

And not one of them had known a thing about it.

_Arthur_ had not known a thing about it.

And so even though he knew he should just leave it alone, he had to ask.

"She said she knew me. The woman. She said I freed her from a terrible captivity."

Merlin's eyes closed briefly, his face pained.

"She looked familiar," Arthur continued. "But I can't place her."

"That's not surprising," Merlin said unhelpfully.

"But I have met her?"

"In a manner of speaking. It's…complicated."

Merlin didn't offer more than that, but he also didn't seem to be shutting down. Arthur watched him closely for a moment before deciding more questions were safe.

"You loved her?"

To his surprise, Merlin smiled. A real smile. "Yes. I loved her. I only knew her for a few days, so that might seem silly. But I loved her."

"Did you know her from Ealdor?"

Merlin looked at Arthur in surprise. "No. Why would you think Ealdor?"

Arthur shrugged. "I mean, you weren't completely a child when you came to Camelot. You could have loved a girl before that. And I didn't think it could have been since you came to Camelot."

Merlin nodded, understanding. "You mean you can't believe I was in love and you didn't know about it."

"It does seem like something you might have mentioned," Arthur muttered darkly, making Merlin laugh. "When was it?"

Merlin was quiet for a long moment, everyone silent as they waited for his answer.

"When?" he insisted again.

"Arthur," a voice growled behind him, and Arthur realized he was crossing a line.

"You don't have to tell me," he said hastily, offering a smile he meant to be reassuring, thought it felt forced and awkward. 

"No, it's okay, Gwaine," Merlin assured the knight who had stepped in. "I've just never talked about it before. It's strange." But after another pause, he began.

"Freya was a druid. She had magic." He glanced sideways at Arthur, and Arthur was careful not to let his emotions show on his face. He wasn't even sure what his emotions _were_ for that. Merlin had loved a woman with magic?

"She killed a man on accident. She didn't mean to, but she was afraid. He attacked her, and she was trying to protect herself. The man's mother had magic as well, and she cursed Freya." He swallowed. "A bad curse. I didn't know, not until the end. I thought she was just scared because she had magic. But I helped her hide."

This wasn't the story Arthur had expected. He had expected a simple tale, maybe something about another servant who had fallen fatally ill. Maybe Merlin would have met her while Gaius was treating her. A straightforward, if tragic, love story.

He had not expected a story about Merlin harboring a cursed sorceress.

"I brought her food and candles while she was hiding, and I made sure she was okay," Merlin continued. "We…it's hard to explain. We got to know each other. She was special. I promised I would keep her safe. We came up with a plan." He trailed off and looked at Arthur again, and Arthur knew he wasn't going to like whatever was coming next. "We were going to run away together. Live a normal life. Live a happy life."

Merlin watched Arthur carefully as he processed this information.

"You were going to leave?" Arthur asked dumbly.

"Yes."

"Without saying anything. Without saying _goodbye_."

"Yes."

"To me? Or Gwen? To _Gaius_?"

Merlin winced. "If I had told anyone I was leaving, they would have wanted to know why. And I couldn't tell anyone about her without endangering her."

"You could have said something though, Merlin! You could have come up with a story!" Arthur tried to rein in the anger, but even he was surprised by the intensity of the hurt and betrayal he felt at this revelation.

Merlin would have left him? Left them all? Just like that?

"You would have rather I lied?" Merlin asked, and Arthur realized he had switched into that other Merlin again. The one whose face showed nothing. The Merlin he couldn't read.

Arthur didn't answer the question. He just scoffed and shook his head.

"I'm sorry," Merlin said quietly and sincerely. "I was going to leave you without saying anything, and I'm sorry."

Arthur nodded, the closest he could come to accepting the apology in the moment. "But you didn't leave," he prompted, and Merlin took a deep breath. Arthur could tell he was bracing himself for the next part of the story.

"No. We had a plan. But like I said. Freya was cursed."

It was a beautiful day out, warm and pleasant, but Arthur felt a coldness steal over him, and suddenly he regretted asking Merlin to tell this story. He didn't want to know how it ended, and he didn't want Merlin to have to tell it. But Merlin was still talking, and Arthur couldn't stop it now.

"After she killed that man, his mother cursed her to…to always be a killer. At midnight she would transform into a beast, and…" Merlin shuddered. His face was pale, and Arthur saw tears in his eyes again, which were still red from his crying that morning. "She would kill. And then turn back into a human. She didn't want to be a killer, she just…"

"She was cursed," Gwaine finished softly.

"What kind of beast?"

The words came out flat and numb, because Arthur already knew the answer. He knew now why Freya had looked familiar.

But Merlin continued the story as though Arthur hadn't spoken.

"Freya said that it was too dangerous for me to go with her. I insisted she was wrong. So she tried to sneak out without me. But she transformed and…"

"And I killed her," Arthur said dully.

"No," Merlin said, shaking his head emphatically even as he wiped his eyes. "It wasn't like that."

"It was exactly like that." Arthur focused on the road in front of him. He couldn't bring himself to look at Merlin.

Merlin took a shaky breath and pushed on.

"I found her after she was…injured. I stayed with her. I tried to treat her wounds. I tried to save her. But I couldn't." His voice broke on the last word, and it took him a moment before he could continue. "She died in my arms. I wanted a life with her, and she wanted a life with me. But more than that, Arthur, I think she wanted…" he broke off again, and then his voice took on a determined tone. "Arthur," he demanded, "what did you say she said to you at the lake?"

In the telling of the story, Arthur had forgotten the sentence that had first piqued his curiosity.

"She said I freed her from a terrible captivity," he answered, finally letting himself glance at Merlin again.

"You set her free," Merlin confirmed. "I was too selfish to have ever done that."

"I killed the woman you loved, Merlin."

"You were protecting the people of Camelot, which is and always has been your first priority. It was the curse that killed Freya, not you." Merlin's sincerity was undeniable. "Please, Arthur. I have never blamed you."

Arthur suddenly let out a harsh laugh. "Here you are telling the story of losing the girl you loved, and I've managed to make it so _you're_ comforting _me_." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. Gods, Merlin. I'm so sorry." _About all of it._

Merlin nodded. "I know, Arthur. It's all right. Just today, seeing her again…it was a bit of a shock. That's all."

"You were the one who helped her escape from Halig, weren't you?" Arthur asked suddenly, knowing the answer.

"Yes," Merlin admitted. "I saw her in that cage, and I thought, that…" Merlin trailed off briefly, then restarted. "I thought that wasn't right. That a person would be caged like an animal."

Arthur was almost certain that was not what Merlin had been planning to say. He wanted to call him on it, but he couldn't bring himself to push Merlin right then.

"Halig suspected," Arthur said, "and I vouched for you. I told him you had my absolute trust."

Merlin had the decency to look ashamed. "I know."

Arthur sighed. "I understand why you did it." There was no point in being angry about it now, especially with Merlin as raw as he was.

A few minutes of silence passed before Gwaine spoke up. "Will you tell us about her?"

Apparently it was the right thing to ask, because a small smile danced across Merlin's face. "What do you want to know?"

Gwaine spoke slowly, his words unusually thoughtful. "Why? I mean, why did you love her?"

It took Merlin a long time to answer, and when he did, his words were careful and his eyes glazed over, as though he weren't really seeing the road in front of him. "She was unlike anyone I had ever met. And when I was with her, I could be fully myself. I didn't feel like I had to pretend to be someone I wasn't."

"What does that mean?" Gwaine asked, and Merlin shook his head, as though he himself were unsure of the answer.

"Just...I was comfortable with her in a way I've never been with anyone else." Merlin glanced at Arthur again. "What is it, Arthur?"

"You pretend to be someone you're not with me? With us?" he amended quickly, trying to sound curious rather than hurt.

Merlin shook his head. "Aren't there pieces of yourself that you keep from everyone, Arthur? And aren't there things that you share with Gwen that you don't share with anyone else?"

Merlin was right. But that was different, wasn't it? Arthur was king. He was alone in that role, and as such, there were things he couldn't share. And yes, Gwen knew more about his insecurities than anyone else. But why couldn't Merlin share? What could he possibly have to hide?

"I guess it's always like that with a woman you love." Surprisingly, it was Percival who spoke up. "We all have secrets we don't even know we have until find the right person to share them with."

"I had no idea you were such a romantic," Gwaine quipped, and Arthur silently cursed them, because there was laughter all around, and the topic was clearly closed.


	7. Chapter 7

They stopped shortly after midday, despite the amount of potential travel time left in the day. They were all exhausted, and nothing urgent forced them to rush back to Camelot. Arthur sat on a rock, watching Merlin prepare a fire.

"Well," Gwaine said, plopping down heavily next to Arthur. "Merlin had a girl. And a whole tragic story to go with it." He shook his head, and Arthur saw a kind of dazed disbelief in his eyes that reflected his own feelings.

"You didn't know?" If anyone would have known, it would have been Gwaine.

But the knight shook his head. "No, I had no idea. I mean, part of me isn't shocked. I've never seen him show interest in a girl before, but I just figured that was because he's… you know. Merlin. He wouldn't find a girl by flirting in a tavern. He'd find someone like him."

"Like him?" Arthur echoed questioningly.

Gwaine shrugged. "You know. Someone good. Someone kind. He's the kind who would fall in love, you know? For him, it would either be nothing at all, or it would be—" Gwaine stopped abruptly.

"Nothing or what?" Arthur asked, and Gwaine sighed.

"I always figured if Merlin really fell in love with a girl, we'd know. Because that would be the only thing that could ever persuade him to leave you."

Arthur huffed in irritation. "Apparently."

Gwaine shrugged again. "Merlin is loyal to you, Arthur. He believes in you, and he's completely dedicated to serving you. More than anyone else, including any of your knights, if we're being honest. All I meant is that it would take something drastic to take him from your side."

Arthur huffed again, but didn't argue. "I hate that I didn't know. He went through all of that, and the whole time I was making him muck out stables and polish armor."

"That's what bothers you most, isn't it?" Gwaine asked shrewdly. "That Merlin kept such a big a secret from you?"

Arthur's mouth tightened. "No, of course not. He's my servant. He's not required to tell me all of the details of his life. And certainly not his love life. If he wants to keep personal things personal, that's his right."

Gwaine stared at him for a long moment before nodding. "Of course. It's his right. After all, he's just your servant."

Arthur heard the sarcasm in that final sentence and knew Gwaine didn't believe him for a moment. Which was a good thing, because it meant Gwaine wasn't an idiot.

"It's weird though," Gwaine said, suddenly and thoughtfully. "That bit she said to him at the end, about their destinies going separate ways. About Merlin doing great things."

Arthur hadn't really thought about those words at all, but now that Gwaine mentioned it, they were a bit strange.

"It's hard to picture Merlin with a great destiny, isn't it?" he asked, and Gwaine chuckled along with him.

"If only we all had a woman who loved us enough to assure us we were destined for great things," he said, clapping a hand on Arthur's shoulder and standing. "I mean, I suppose you have your lovely queen. But the rest of us are just alone to wonder."

Gwaine was laughing, but Arthur wondered if there was just a hint of longing in the knight's voice as he walked away. He could understand if there was. There was something so _pure_ about the interaction between Merlin and Freya. It was hard not to feel a longing for something similar. He loved Gwen and she loved him, but their love was somehow more… _ordinary_ than what he had witnessed at the lake.

Merlin and his extraordinary love. That Arthur had known nothing about.

What he said to Gwaine should have been true. His servant shouldn't have to share his personal life with him. Except Merlin wasn't exactly an ordinary servant, and he thought Merlin _did_ share things with him. 

And he couldn't help but wonder, what else had Merlin kept from him?

* * *

Arthur woke up the next morning with a new plan.

"You want to go _back_ to Elric?" Elyan asked in shock.

"To the area," Arthur clarified. "Mercenaries can, by definition, be bought. Let's put feelers out and see if there's anyone who has read that prophecy and might be willing to share its contents. And we can also look around and see if we can find the druid camp that the healer came from. They might be able to share more about the prophecy as well."

"You do remember that Merlin almost died last time, right?" Gwaine reminded him.

"Also, Emrys himself might be more likely to make himself known to us out here than he would be behind the walls of the castle," Arthur continued as though he hadn't heard him.

"Because he would be sentenced to death if he revealed himself to you in the castle," Gwaine pointed out dryly. "Also, remember the part about Merlin and the arrows?"

"I would also like to point out the part about Merlin and the arrows," Merlin piped up from where he was packing up his bag. "I vote for going back to Camelot."

"Unfortunately, this is a monarchy," Arthur said, lightly smacking the back of Merlin's head. "And this monarch still needs to find Emrys."

"Fine," Merlin grumbled. "But I'm not getting shot again. Someone else can go sneak around Elric's house this time."

* * *

"Honestly, Merlin," Arthur said once they were all on their horses and making their way back towards Elric's estate. "With all the complaining, you'd think I ordered you into Elric's house on penalty of death. From what I recall, it was your plan, which I did not like, mind you, and you sauntered in arrogantly without a care in the world."

"That was then," Merlin said darkly. "Now I've been shot, so I don't feel as keen on it. Besides, I think this whole thing is foolish." The words were barely out before he snapped his mouth shut, and Arthur knew him well enough to know he'd unsay it if he could. Which made Arthur even more curious.

"What whole thing?"

"Nothing," Merlin backpedaled. "I'm just feeling off still, and it's making me grumpy. I didn't mean anything."

"No," Arthur insisted. "What whole thing do you think is foolish? You've already said it, so you might as well explain it."

Merlin let out a noisy sigh. "Traipsing through the woods, trying to find some trace of Emrys. Or the prophecy. We're never going to find him unless he wants to be found. We might as well go back to Camelot and you can get on with doing whatever it is you do and I can sleep in an actual bed."

"Great insights, Merlin," Arthur said sarcastically. "I'll just let you run the kingdom from now on, shall I?"

"Why do you ask my thoughts just so you can dismiss them?" Merlin snapped, and Arthur was taken aback. He thought this was just their normal banter.

"What…" he'd started to say "What's wrong with you?" But Merlin had already told him, hadn't he? He'd said he felt off and grumpy. Maybe Arthur shouldn't push him.

"Merlin," he said instead, after a moment's thought.

"What?" Merlin asked crossly.

"I'm not sure what the normal recovery process is for magical healings. Let me know if you start getting tired or need to take a break." Arthur made sure his tone was casual and dismissive. "We're not in a hurry, and you're no good to us if you're half dead. If you keel over, we'll have to cook dinner ourselves."

The scowl faded from Merlin's face, and Arthur even got a small smile from him. "I'll let you know."

* * *

"Please, I am begging you, Gwaine. Shut up. For just five minutes."

"Oh, don't be such a whiner, Leon," Gwaine ribbed cheerfully. "You're just jealous because _you_ didn't impress the barmaid with your fighting skills."

"I'm with Leon," Elyan jumped in. "One more tavern story and I'm gagging you."

Gwaine let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine. No more tales of my great deeds."

The silence lasted about ninety seconds before Gwaine was talking again.

"Do you think he's old?"

It was a sign of Arthur's obsession with Emrys that he knew exactly what Gwaine was asking.

"I'm just saying, if we're trying to find him, it would be helpful to have some idea of what we're trying to find. I mean, if he's powerful, he has to have been studying sorcery for a long time, right? So we're looking for an old man?"

"You think someone like Dragoon?" Arthur asked thoughtfully, and next to him he heard Merlin snicker. Arthur still felt bad for being short with him earlier, so he let it slide. "I'm not saying Dragoon himself," he explained, rolling his eyes. "He was a bit of a buffoon. But someone like him."

"Merlin?" Leon asked. "I know Gaius is our resident expert on sorcery. Do you have any idea how long someone would have to study sorcery to have the kind of power Emrys supposedly has?"

"What?" Merlin's eyes went wide. "Leon, Gaius doesn't teach me about sorcery."

"I'm not saying that." Leon chuckled as though the idea were absurd.

"Leon is right though," Arthur said. "I know he doesn't teach you sorcery, exactly, but he knows quite a bit about magic. Have you ever picked up on anything that would give us a clue?"

Merlin sighed through his nose, his lips thin and his eyes darting.

_He knows something._ Arthur was sure of it. But before he could press him, Merlin started rambling.

"It's… possible," he began, "that age wouldn't really be a factor. Just because he's powerful doesn't necessarily mean he's old. He could have been born – I mean, it could have come naturally to him. Regardless of age. Maybe. Or maybe he's old. Really old. Who really knows?"

"He could have been born what?" Arthur asked, and for a moment Merlin looked angry at the question.

No, not angry. Afraid.

Of course he was.

"Merlin," Arthur assured him gently. "You're not going to get Gaius into trouble for telling you these things. I give you my word."

Merlin swallowed and didn't really look any calmer, and when he spoke, his voice was shaky. But he did speak.

"Did you know," he began slowly, "that there are different types of sorcerers?"

Arthur frowned. "What do you mean?"

Merlin's voice evened out, but he was turning into that other, unreadable Merlin again, with no expression on his face.

"Most sorcerers are just normal people who study and learn how to use the magic in the world around them to perform spells and enchantments. But sometimes – very, very rarely – someone is born with magic _in_ them. A little bit or a lot. They're called warlocks. And normally they have to study it too, so that they can learn how to use it. Otherwise it just kind of… boils up in them. Usually when they're teenagers, although not always. And it can be dangerous, unless they learn to control it."

It took Merlin a few steps to realize that Arthur had pulled his horse to a stop, and the other knights, following his lead, had stopped behind him. Merlin turned around in his saddle to look back at them, but he didn't back up or turn his horse around to rejoin them.

"Are you saying," Arthur asked, his voice low, "that there are people who are sorcerers without _choosing_ to be sorcerers? They literally have no choice?"

Hesitantly, Merlin nodded. "It's rare. Extremely rare. But yes, it can happen."

Arthur felt sick to his stomach. "And if one of these people had been discovered in Camelot in the last few decades, they would have been executed."

"Yes," Merlin whispered, his voice barely carrying to Arthur. "They would have been executed. Just for existing." He cleared his throat then and raised his voice to a normal tone. "But the point is, warlocks are more powerful, because they have the magic within them in addition to the magic around them. So if this Emrys happens to be a warlock, he could be any age, depending on how much magic he was born with." He shrugged.

Merlin still hadn't rejoined them and clearly didn't intend to, so Arthur nudged his horse forward.

"You all right?" Merlin asked as Arthur rode up beside him.

Arthur nodded unconvincingly. "I'm fine. That's just… unexpected information. But I'm fine."

* * *

"Are you in pain?" Arthur asked Merlin that evening, eyeing his servant with concern as they dismounted. They'd spent most of the day riding the perimeter of Elric's territory, but they hadn't come across any druids or mercenaries as Arthur had hoped. It had, in all, been a mostly wasted day.

"What?" Merlin asked, then shook his head. "I mean no. No, I feel okay. A little tired maybe, but mostly normal."

"You sure?"

Merlin laughed. "Yes, Arthur, I'm sure. Why?"

Arthur watched him carefully. "You've been quiet today. None of your usual mindless prattle."

Merlin looked away from the supplies he was unloading and met Arthur's gaze. "You're one to talk. You didn't say a word all afternoon. Are _you_ all right?"

Arthur snorted indignantly. "I'm fine. Just thinking about things. Not an activity you'd be familiar with."

"Yes, well, don't hurt yourself," Merlin quipped, then ducked away before Arthur could reply.

Thinking about things indeed.

There was something just out of reach. All of the rumors about Emrys, and then the events of the past few days…it felt like there was something right _there_. Something Arthur should see.

He tuned the others out as he ate dinner. He automatically said goodnight as everyone settled in, except for Percival, who was taking first watch.

Arthur sat on a log and thought. He noticed Merlin watching him with concern, but before long, his servant's snores joined the rest.

He was almost _there_. There was something. If he could only get a grasp on it…he turned it over again and again in his mind. Everything he knew about Emrys. Everything from the past few days that didn't make sense.

What if…?

He laughed aloud, a sharp snort of laughter that he worried might wake someone. What ridiculousness.

But… but what _if_ …

No.

Oh.

_Oh_.


	8. Chapter 8

"You're awake early," Leon greeted Arthur the next morning. He took a seat near him as the other knights slowly roused themselves. Merlin sat off to the side, preparing breakfast. "I had some ideas last night," he said conversationally.

Arthur didn't answer him. He didn't even acknowledge him. Leon waited for an awkward moment, then pushed on hesitantly.

"I was just thinking some more about Emrys possibly swearing fealty when we find him. Initially I was thinking it would be the same oath the knights take, but I had some thoughts about changing some of it. To make it more specific to a sorcerer." Arthur still hadn't moved. "Arthur?" Leon asked gently. Then, "Sire?"

"No," Arthur answered abruptly, and his curt tone negated any relief Leon might have felt at him finally speaking.

Then Arthur laughed, but it was a cold laugh. His behavior was strange enough to chase away any lingering sleepiness from the group; several of them exchanged confused looks as they they took seats around last night's fire, eyeing him with concern. Merlin slowly sat on a rock across from Arthur, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he watched his master carefully. 

Arthur stared fixedly at the ashes, and Leon wasn't sure how to name the expression on his face. Cold, yes, like his laugh. And hard. And furious.

In some ways, he looked very much like Uther.

But there was a fire in his eyes that didn't match Uther's occasional near-madness. It was much rawer than that.

"No," Arthur repeated firmly, his voice almost mocking. 'There will be no _oath of fealty_."

"Sire?" Leon questioned. "I thought you liked the idea."

"Yes, well, Leon," Arthur said bitingly, "that was before I knew who Emrys was. And now – now I can imagine nothing so ridiculous as asking him to _swear fealty_ to me. It's just…" he trailed off, and then laughed again, but this laugh wasn't harsh or angry. It almost sounded lost. "It's just absurd to even picture."

Then Arthur's voice turned hard. "Either he's loyal to me or he's not. If he is loyal, time will show that. If not, then I can't imagine swearing an oath would make the slightest difference to _him_."

Leon glanced around the circle, and every single person sat frozen, staring at Arthur in alarm or exchanging nervous glances. He wished someone else would speak up, but he was the most veteran of the group, Arthur's right-hand man. This was up to him.

He rather preferred riding into battle.

"So… no oath of fealty." He skirted the obvious question he knew he should ask, opting for what he hoped was a safer avenue of conversation. "But you said time would tell, so I take it you don't intend to execute him once you locate him?"

"Not immediately," Arthur said flatly. "Nor will I exile him. Not now, at least. But once we're back in Camelot, I do fully intend to pummel him to within an inch of his life and then make his life a living hell for… well, possibly forever."

Leon took a deep breath and took the plunge. "Sire," he asked cautiously, "do you know who Emrys is?"

"Yes, Leon." Arthur's gaze still hadn't left the ashes. His lips smiled, but his eyes didn't. "I know who Emrys is. It was just a thought. A crazy, ridiculous thought. But then I thought about it more, and…and it all came together. All of the things that haven't made sense in my life over the past ten years. Things that I didn't even _realize_ didn't make sense until suddenly they did. All the times I should have died but somehow didn't. All the times we were ridiculously lucky, despite all logic. All the times…" he trailed off and shook his head.

"And it all just _made_ _sense_ ," he continued. "And then I had all of these questions. Why wouldn't he tell me? How long had he been a sorcerer? Who else knows? And the craziest thing is, even those…he'd already given me the answers to all of those questions. He'd already given me the answers, and I had no idea. Because apparently, I need to learn to _listen_ as well as I _fight_."

Leon listened speechlessly. It sounded like Arthur was saying Emrys was someone he _knew_ , and knew well. But surely that was impossible?

"And finally," Arthur said, his voice dropping softly. "Finally, I was left with just one question. _How could I have missed it?_ All these years, with it right in front of me, so completely obvious. How could I have missed it?"

He shook his head in shock and disbelief. And then he smiled again, that hard and unhappy smile.

"But even that one, _Emrys_ had already answered for me."

And finally, Arthur lifted his eyes to look across the circle, and his voice turned to ice.

"After all, people always underestimate a servant."


	9. Chapter 9

Gwaine laughed. Out loud. And then he opened his mouth to comment, and Leon had never felt more tempted to take his sword and stab the knight who never shut up.

But watching Arthur and Merlin, apparently even Gwaine realized that this was not a time to jump in, because he shut his mouth before any words came out.

Merlin reminded Leon of a hunted rabbit. He sat very still, his unblinking eyes not leaving Arthur's, and he breathing came more quickly than usual. His face was solemn, his eyes wide and nervous.

But when he spoke, his voice was steady. Even light, although certainly not glib.

"And all these years, I thought you never listened to me."

Arthur didn't laugh, but Leon could swear he did see a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth.

The silence stretched as the two stared each other down. Arthur finally broke it.

"I thought you might try to deny it."

"I can understand why you would have that thought," Merlin admitted quietly.

"But you aren't going to?"

Merlin shook his head very slightly, the movement barely perceptible. "No."

"Why not? You've lied so many times before. Why not lie now?" Arthur's voice turned less harsh. Flatter. And somehow that made the words sound even worse.

Merlin smiled sadly. "You might find this hard to believe, all things considered, but I do not like lying to you or keeping secrets from you, Arthur. Believe it or not, I'm glad you know."

"You're right," Arthur replied sharply. "I do find that hard to believe."

"I wanted to tell you," Merlin said, and Arthur replied so quickly it nearly cut him off.

"You _should_ have told me." Merlin opened his mouth, but Arthur pressed on before he could speak. "I know why you didn't. After all, you explained it to me," he said with a sardonic smile. "But you should have told me."

"I couldn't risk it," Merlin insisted.

"You should have trusted me, Merlin. As I have trusted you, again and again."

Merlin finally broke the stare, and to Leon's surprise, his mouth tightened. Leon recognized that look. It wasn't a look of remorse, but of frustration. It was the look Merlin had when Arthur gave an order that Merlin thought was unfair, but Merlin was going to obey it anyway.

"Tell me now," Arthur demanded.

"What?" Merlin asked, looking genuinely confused.

"I want to hear you say it. _Tell me_."

Merlin swallowed and blinked as though disoriented. "Okay," he said. And then he opened his mouth to say more, but he seemed to have trouble speaking.

"For crying out loud, Merlin," Arthur exclaimed. "I already know. I'm just asking you to say the words."

"Well, I've never said the words before," Merlin snapped. "So maybe just give me a minute."

Arthur stood up suddenly and began pacing.

"Never?" he repeated.

The fight was gone from Merlin's voice as quickly as it appeared. "No, Arthur. Never. Everyone who ever knew found out because they caught me. Except Freya, I guess. I didn't really hide it from her. But I didn't tell her either. I was just…myself with her. Including that. And the others were all an accident. And besides," he added, his voice dropping, "apart from my mother and Gaius, they're all dead now."

Leon felt an unexpected flash of pity.

Merlin took another deep breath, then finally, slowly, said two sentences. "I have magic. I am the one the druids call 'Emrys.'"

It sounded completely surreal coming out of Merlin's mouth. And even though Arthur said he had already known, Leon saw a shudder go through his body as he paced.

"Do you know the prophecy?" he demanded, and Merlin sighed.

"Yes." 

"Tell me."

Merlin hesitated, and the order came more severely the second time.

" _Tell me._ "

"I am!" Merlin protested. "I'm just trying to figure out where to start!" He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "The prophecies say that there will be a king. The Once and Future King. He'll be the greatest king Camelot has ever known, and he'll bring in the golden age of Camelot. He'll unite Albion. He'll lead the land into a time of peace and prosperity, and he'll—" Merlin broke off and winced, but he'd barely paused before Arthur pressed him.

"And he'll _what_?"

"He'll bring back magic," Merlin finished reluctantly.

Arthur laughed, and Leon couldn't tell if it was out of amusement or disbelief. Possibly both.

"You've called me that before," he said. "The Once and Future King." 

"Yes."

"But those are all prophecies about a king, Merlin. I was asking about the prophecy regarding Emrys."

Merlin shrugged. "Emrys is kind of just a…side character in the prophecies," he said uncomfortably.

"Merlin, stop dodging the question and tell me what the prophecies say," Arthur snapped. Then he added under his breath, "You're always dodging my questions."

Merlin winced, but he didn't deny it.

"The prophecies say that there will be a sorcerer. A powerful sorcerer. And he'll help and protect the Once and Future King. They, uh," Merlin cleared his throat. "They will be like two sides of a coin. Their destinies will be intertwined."

"A powerful sorcerer," Arthur repeated. Then, "You're a warlock, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"How powerful is powerful?"

Merlin cringed and hesitated, and Arthur, whose control had clearly been thin for the entire conversation, finally snapped. He stopped his pacing and stormed over to Merlin, towering over his servant.

"Merlin," he said, his voice low and rough with rage. "We are done with secrets and lies. Do you understand me? From here forward, you will be honest with me, or I swear to god you will never see an executioner because I will put a sword through you myself."

Merlin looked up from where he sat and met Arthur's gaze, and for a long moment the two stared at each other. Then Merlin nodded, with no hint of humor or resentment in his eyes. "Yes, sire. Arthur, I know it might not count for much right now, but I give you my word, from now on, I will be honest with you. And if I am not, I will hand you the sword myself."

Arthur's face twisted. Whatever anger he might feel, he clearly took no pleasure in the thought of actually killing Merlin.

"But Arthur," Merlin added, and Arthur stared in shock.

" _But_?" he repeated with disbelief.

" _But_ ," Merlin said gently, "I have spent my entire life trying to cover for this secret just so I could stay alive. I'm not proud of it, but yes, for as far back as I remember, I have lied and kept secrets, and…I know you'll have no sympathy for this, but honesty will not come easily for me. So if I'm sometimes slow to answer, please, give me a minute. I'm not trying to think up a lie. I can lie quickly enough. I'm trying to figure out how to say the truth. The truth is more…unnatural for me."

Arthur scoffed, but he gave Merlin a curt nod and resumed his pacing, slower this time.

"How powerful is powerful?" he repeated.

"According to the prophecy, Emrys is the most powerful sorcerer ever to have lived," Merlin admitted uncomfortably.

A long silence followed that. Arthur didn't look away from Merlin, but Leon found himself accidentally making eye contact with Percival, whose mouth had literally fallen open. He was sure the look on his own face showed the same astonishment.

Arthur sat back down, staring hard at Merlin. "Most powerful sorcerer ever?" he repeated. And Merlin actually smiled a little bit and shrugged modestly.

"That's what the prophecy says. That I will be, at least. Not sure I am yet. But someday."

Arthur nodded, looking a bit dazed. "So, uh," he said after a moment, shaking his head as he tried to come to terms with that revelation. "Why? If you're a powerful sorcerer, why spend your days polishing boots and emptying chamber pots?"

And Merlin smiled for real this time. "Being your servant lets me stay close. How else could I come along on little trips like this? It's not like I could be a knight. And even then, the knights aren't with you as much as I am. And besides, I hear things as a servant that I wouldn't hear otherwise. People don't really notice me, you know, so they're careless about what they say around me." He trailed off suddenly as he saw Arthur scowl.

"People always underestimate a servant," Arthur muttered. "Including me, apparently."

"Anyway," Merlin hurried on, "being close means I know what's going on. I can help you talk through things sometimes, when you let me. And I can protect you."

Another laugh finally escaped Gwaine, who had been doing such a good job with his self-control.

Both Merlin and Arthur glared at him, and he held his hands up in surrender.

"I'm sorry. I mean, mentally I get it. It makes complete sense. But it's just going to take some time before hearing 'Merlin' and 'protect' in the same sentence doesn't sound absurd." He stifled the laughter, but it was still clear on his face.

"I protect you too," Merlin grumbled. "All of you. Have you never thought it was weird how often tree branches fall on the people you're fighting?"

"I had noticed that," Elyan admitted.

"Yes, I've always thought that was strange," Percival agreed. But they all shut up when Arthur glared at them again.

He turned back to Merlin, who seemed to be fighting a satisfied smirk.

"Why on earth do you look pleased?" Arthur demanded in exasperation, and Merlin's smirk turned into a real smile.

"Because," he replied with cautious sincerity, "I've waited years for you to know, and you seem like maybe you're okay with this."

"Okay with it?" Arthur repeated in disbelief. "Did you miss the part about the pummeling and making your life a living hell?"

"You can't pummel me or make my life hell if I'm executed or banished or sacked," Merlin pointed out with a trace of his usual cheeky grin.

Arthur scowled, then blinked in surprise. "Wait a minute, I didn't say anything about not sacking you!"

"It'll be much easier to torture me if you don't sack me," Merlin argued.

Arthur sighed and rubbed his hand over his face.

"Go make breakfast, Merlin."

Merlin grinned and stood. "Yes, sire."

"And Merlin?" Arthur added with a dark look. "We're not done. Not by a long shot."

The smile faded, but it didn't disappear entirely. "Yes, sire."


	10. Chapter 10

"Fall back. Give us space."

Merlin couldn't help but squirm nervously when Arthur gave the order to the knights. Gwaine looked at him sympathetically – actually, all of them looked at him a little bit sympathetically – before falling back. Then Merlin and Arthur rode on alone, the knights following at a distance, out of earshot.

"You're going to tell me everything, Merlin. Understand?"

Merlin nodded. "I understand. It's just – Arthur, ten years is a long time. It's not like I kept a diary. I promise, I won't hold anything back on purpose, but it might take a while to tell you everything. And I can't promise to remember everything."

"Yes," Arthur said, his voice clipped. "Ten years would leave you with a lot of lies to cover, wouldn't it? Best get started."

* * *

"Leon?" Gwaine muttered as Arthur and Merlin pulled ahead. "Do you have any idea where we're going?" There was no point in continuing to search for Elric's mercenaries or the druids, but Arthur also didn't seem to be heading back to Camelot.

"No idea," Leon said. "You're welcome to ask him if you'd like."

Gwaine snorted, and Elyan snickered behind him.

"Did any of you know?" Leon asked, and Percival and Elyan both shook their heads.

"Gwaine?"

Gwaine sighed. "No," he admitted. "I had no idea."

He should have known. He'd laughed when Arthur had first said it, but it had taken a surprisingly short time for the pieces to fall into place. And of course, there were those flying plates in the tavern the first time they met. It had seemed odd, but Gwaine had been drinking, and…well, it was just so easy to ignore odd things.

"Guess I'm not much of a friend," he said tightly. "I knew enough to put it together. I just didn't."

"None of us did," Elyan said comfortingly, but Gwaine shook his head.

"We're friends. Not that he's not friends with you too, but I thought we were close friends. Close enough that I should have caught this."

"It's probably for the best you didn't," Leon said grimly. "I'd hate to see how Arthur would have reacted if someone else knew before him."

The ride that day was purposeless and tense. The knights played at normalcy, joking and telling stories, but they all kept one eye on the pair ahead of them. They could hear the sounds of Merlin and Arthur up ahead, sometimes talking calmly and sometimes arguing. At one point in the early afternoon, Merlin dropped back to join them.

"He said he needs time to process and he wants me to go away," Merlin said glumly. "I've barely even gotten started."

Gwaine gave him a pitying smile. "Give him time. It's a shock – for all of us, if I'm being honest – but especially for him. He's not going to process it all in a day."

Merlin nodded, but he didn't look encouraged.

"I should probably go join him," Leon said, sounding decidedly unenthusiastic about it. "We can't very well have our king riding up there alone and vulnerable."

"Glad I'm not Leon," Gwaine muttered as the veteran knight trotted up to join Arthur. But a few seconds later Leon had dropped back again, and Gwaine couldn't help but laugh at the wide-eyed look on his face.

"Apparently our king would prefer to ride alone and vulnerable," Leon said. "He was very clear about it." Everyone but Leon laughed, even Merlin.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Arthur summoned Merlin up to ride with him again.

"I think I know where we're going," Elyan said dryly as they watched Merlin ride away.

"In a circle?" Leon asked.

"Yup."

"Yes, I noticed that as well."

"Think we should mention it to Arthur?"

"Absolutely not. Right now, unless it's life-threatening, I don't think we should mention anything to Arthur."

Their laughter was cut off by a shout up ahead.

"You _knew_?" Arthur yelled, and his sword rang as he pulled it from his scabbard. Gwaine made to run to them, his hand on the hilt of his own sword, but Leon grabbed the reins of his horse before he could get away.

"No!" he hissed. "We stay out of it!"

But all Gwaine could see was Arthur's blade at Merlin's throat, Merlin holding his hands up in surrender.

"You knew, and you told no one?" Arthur shouted, incredulous.

"She was the king's ward, Arthur!" Merlin yelled back. "Who could I have told? Uther would have had me executed for treason had I even suggested it!"

"Oh no," Leon whispered, his face going pale. "He knew about Morgana?"

Everything stood still for a long moment. Gwaine probably could have gotten away from Leon, but he was frozen with the rest of them, watching. Fortunately, after several seconds, Arthur must have seen the reason in Merlin's argument because he sheathed his sword.

"Yeah," Elyan said quietly. "We'll just keep the circle thing to ourselves then?"

* * *

Arthur was pretty sure this had been the longest day of his life. Which was saying something, since as a prince and then as a king, he'd had some long days.

But this. Staying up all night didn't help, but he knew that wasn't the problem. The problem was that his entire world was upside down. The person he thought he knew best in the world was a stranger to him. But even more bizarre was the knowledge that _Arthur_ still wasn't a stranger to _Merlin_. His servant knew everything about him. Always had. And Arthur knew nothing about him in return.

They stayed at the same site they camped the night before. Everyone wisely refrained from pointing out they'd gone in a circle, though Leon had subtly tried to suggest setting up camp elsewhere. But Arthur stubbornly demanded they stay in the same place, and since he was king, he got his way.

He didn't know why he wanted to stay here again. Maybe because this was where everything went wrong, he hoped that somehow this is where everything could go right again.

He fell asleep more easily than he expected, but it was a fitful sleep, and he woke when he heard rustling in the camp.

He squinted through the darkness and recognized Merlin creeping toward the trees.

_Are you kidding me? Is he seriously going to run away now?_

Arthur felt a combination of anger, disappointment, and exasperation. He hadn't exactly been _nice_ to Merlin today, but all things considered, he thought he'd been downright decent. He'd stayed calm and listened as Merlin had uncovered lie after lie after lie, only truly losing his temper once. Who knew that someone could have so many lies to reveal? But Merlin was trying to go in chronological order, and they'd barely put a dent into their time together so far.

And now Merlin was sneaking away.

He waited until he was sure Merlin wouldn't hear him, and then he followed.

Merlin may be a sorcerer, but he was still a clumsy oaf, and tracking him through the woods was easy, even at night. Eventually, the sounds stopped, and Arthur reached a clearing. He stayed hidden in the trees while Merlin sat down towards the edge, looking up at the sky. Then, loudly enough to make Arthur jump, he yelled something. It was nothing Arthur understood, but he was also quite sure it was not gibberish. It was guttural and sure and…well, powerful.

"Is he doing magic?" Arthur jumped again, and turned around to see Leon and Gwaine crouched down behind him. "It sounded like magic," Gwaine continued, "but it doesn't seem to have done much, has it?"

"What are you _doing_ here?" Arthur hissed.

Leon shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "We saw you sneaking away. You're the king. At this point, basically the only reason we're here on this… uh…quest?...is to make sure you don't get killed, sire. Which we can't do if you sneak away."

"I'm the king. I can sneak away if I want," Arthur muttered.

"Also, I wanted to make sure you weren't killing Merlin," Gwaine added.

Before Arthur could respond, another sound broke the silence of the night.

A beating sound, like… wings?

Just for a moment, the moon and the stars were blotted out of the sky.

And then the dragon landed in the clearing.

The _Great_ Dragon. Who was very much _not dead_. 

"Oh, believe me, Gwaine. I'm most definitely going to kill Merlin."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I gave a warning at the beginning of this story that I am going to reiterate here. Chapter lengths and pacing are a little bit all over the place for the next few chapters. It evens back out (I think), but you've been forewarned.

Despite his threat, Arthur didn't move from the trees. Partly because he wanted to see what Merlin was going to do, and partly, if he were to be completely honest with himself, because he wasn't eager to run out there and face a dragon.

And then, just to make the whole damn day even weirder, the dragon _spoke._

"Merlin. What has happened?"

The dragon spoke, and it sounded… concerned?

"Arthur knows about my magic," Merlin said tiredly. "He figured it out last night. He's not taking it particularly well. Not terribly, but just…not well. He pulled his sword on me today."

The dragon laughed, which was even more disconcerting than hearing it talk. Merlin gave it a dirty look in response.

"Merlin, how long have you been lying to him?"

"Ten years," he admitted sulkily.

"Maybe you should give him a little bit of _time_ ," the dragon said gently. "I know for all of your power, patience is not a strength of yours. But I also know you would give anything to help Arthur. And right now, what Arthur needs is your patience. And truth, of course."

"What if he hates me forever?" he asked, sounding defeated.

"You and Arthur are…"

"…two sides of a coin," Merlin finished, and Arthur would swear he could almost hear Merlin rolling his eyes. "So you've mentioned."

"Your destiny has not changed, young warlock. Nor has Arthur's."

"But we could fulfill our destiny even if he never forgave me, couldn't we? I mean, I could still help him and protect him, even if he hated me? He would just always keep me at a distance and never really trust me again."

"The half can never truly hate…"

"I swear, Kilgharrah, if you say the half can never truly hate that which makes it whole, I will…" Merlin trailed off and gestured uselessly, running out of steam before he could finish his threat.

"I wouldn't need to keep saying it if you would stop questioning it," the dragon retorted. He huffed indignantly, shooting a few flames and a great deal of smoke out of his mouth. Arthur felt Leon cringe beside him.

Then, to his surprise, the dragon lowered his head down, stopping just feet away from Merlin. Merlin didn't seem to notice the nostrils were still smoking a little.

"Merlin, you have a weighty destiny. You have always known this. But this is just one step of the journey. It was always going to be necessary for the young king to learn the truth, and it was never going to be easy. But you are a fool to give up hope right now. Give Arthur time."

Instead of answering, Merlin let out an aggravated sigh and made a face.

"It goes without saying," the dragon added reproachfully, "that the tide has now changed. You must be honest with Arthur going forward, or you risk breaking his trust forever."

Merlin nodded. "I know. That's the reason I summoned you tonight."

_Merlin summoned a dragon._

"I wanted to warn you. I'm doing my best to tell Arthur the truth about… well, everything. Which is a lot. But tomorrow, I'm going to have to tell him the truth about you. He'll know you're alive. And he's already pretty angry in general, and I'm not sure how he'll react. It's possible that if he's looking for somewhere to direct that anger, you might make a convenient target."

"I appreciate the warning," the dragon said thoughtfully. "I will keep my distance from Camelot until I hear from you again. Just in case."

"Thanks. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt in the midst of all of this."

_Merlin summons dragons and wants to protect dragons._

If Arthur had one more unexpected discovery about Merlin, his head was going to explode.

The dragon's tone turned gentler. "Take heart, old friend. This is temporary. And soon the time of Albion will be upon us. Things may look dark right now, but dawn is near."

"Thanks, Kilgharrah," Merlin said. He lightly rested his hand on Kilgharrah's head for a moment. Then he stepped back and the dragon took flight.

Merlin stayed staring up at the sky, and Arthur and the knights stayed staring at Merlin.

"That…that was a dragon, right?" Gwaine whispered. "I didn't imagine that?"

"No," Arthur said grimly. "You didn't imagine it. Go back to the camp. Both of you. That's an order." And he stepped out of the trees and walked to Merlin.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a goal to have both of my current stories completely published by Sunday so I can take a break and focus on family time for a couple of weeks over the holidays. That means picking up my update schedule some, and also means I might not reply to some comments until I return, for which I am truly sorry. :(
> 
> So...eek! Wish me luck!

"So," Arthur said. "You're a dragonlord. And the Great Dragon isn't dead."

Merlin felt his stomach drop.

He turned around tentatively. Arthur was standing in the moonlight, his face unreadable.

"I was going to tell you tomorrow," he began, panicked. How on earth was going to convince Arthur he hadn't intended to keep this a secret?

"I know," Arthur interrupted. "I heard. You said you were planning on being truthful."

The wave of relief was overwhelming. The entire day, Merlin had felt like he was balanced on the point of sword. Which, in a way, he was. Arthur was letting him explain, but Merlin know one wrong word could potentially end his life. It was exhausting, walking on eggshells, never knowing how Arthur would react. But the shadows on Arthur's face told him he wasn't the only one who was exhausted, so he tried to keep his self-pity to a minimum.

To his surprise, Arthur sat down on the ground next to him. After a moment, Merlin hesitantly joined him.

"How many more like that?" Arthur asked wearily.

"What?"

"I know there have been a lot of lies and secrets, but how many more are big ones, like knowing about Morgana or being a dragonlord?"

Merlin tilted his head thoughtfully. "I…honestly, I'm not sure? Not a lot, I don't think. We'll know when we get there, I guess."

Arthur snorted. "That's comforting."

"Sorry," Merlin whispered. Then again, "Arthur, I'm sorry. I don't know if I've said that yet, not really. And I am. I swear to you, I am, always have been, and always will be loyal to you. Everything I have done has been to protect you and to protect Camelot, even the lies. But I know that no matter my intentions, it must feel like a betrayal."

"Yes," Arthur agreed bluntly. "It feels like betrayal. I trusted you, Merlin. Why didn't you trust me?"

"I wanted to. But what if I was wrong? If you killed me or sent me away, who would protect you? It's your destiny to be the Once and Future King, but you can't do that if you're dead. And you're a brave and noble king, but sometimes that bravery means you run headfirst into foolishly dangerous situations where you need protecting. I…I couldn't let you die."

The two sat in silence for a few minutes. Merlin tucked his arms firmly around himself, hoping Arthur wouldn't notice he was shivering.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" Arthur asked finally, and Merlin laughed humorlessly.

"Soon," he said. "I promised myself I would tell you soon. But I've been promising myself that for about six years. I was waiting until the time was right."

"What would make the time right?" Arthur asked.

"There was a certain appeal to the idea of a deathbed confession," Merlin admitted, and he smiled to himself when Arthur laughed.

"My deathbed or yours?"

Merlin snorted. "Arthur, do you honestly believe I would ever let you die before me?"

"I don't know," Arthur answered, suddenly serious. "I have absolutely no idea what you would or wouldn't do. You're a stranger to me, Merlin."

"No!" Merlin insisted, turning to look at Arthur. "No, I'm not! I swear, Arthur, I'm the same person I've always been! The important parts, at least."

"Except you're not. There's so much more to you. I've only ever glimpsed bits and pieces, haven't I?"

Merlin's denial died on his lips. Arthur wasn't entirely wrong, however much Merlin wanted him to be. After all, hadn't that been part of why keeping the secret was hard for Merlin? Because he felt Arthur didn't truly know him?

"Maybe," he admitted defeatedly. "But those bits and pieces were real. _Are_ real."

Arthur nodded, but Merlin wasn't sure if he really believed him.

"All these years," Arthur said, "you've been... irreverent. From the first moment we met, you've never feared me as others have. I always thought it was a combination of an annoying personality quirk and your own special brand of idiocy. But you've never feared me because you've truly never had anything to fear _from_ me, have you?"

Merlin shook his head. "I wouldn't exactly say that."

"Merlin?" Arthur asked.

"Yes?"

"If you wanted to kill me, could you?"

There was a long pause, and when Merlin answered, his voice was incredulous. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

"Absolutely. If you wanted to kill me, could you do it?"

Merlin felt himself getting angry, but he tried to keep it out of his voice. He did not entirely succeed. "I wouldn't want to kill you, so there's no point talking about it."

"Merlin. Answer the question." Arthur's voice was calm but firm.

"No. It's a ridiculous question."

"You've forfeited the right to refuse to answer my questions, Merlin." Arthur's voice turned harder, but not harsh. It was the voice of a king. " _Answer me._ "

Merlin exhaled angrily through his nose. "Fine. It's a stupid question, but yes, if I _wanted_ to kill you, I could. But it doesn't matter because, as I've already said, I'm _loyal_ to you, Arthur, and I would never try to kill you."

Arthur nodded, unsurprised. "But why? Why are you loyal to me? Because the prophecy said you have to be?"

Merlin was shaking his head before Arthur finished the question.

"No. In the beginning, a little bit, maybe. But only because you were a bit of an idiot in the beginning. But once I got to know you, it wasn't about the prophecy. I saw the kind of man you were becoming, Arthur. The kind of king you could be. The kind of king you _would_ be. The prophecy might have made me dutiful, but _you_ made me loyal."

Arthur nodded again, but Merlin wasn't sure any of Arthur's nodding really meant that he understood. Just that he heard what Merlin was saying.

"But you could kill me."

"We're back to that?" Merlin asked with exasperation. "Arthur, when you sleep at night when you're out with your knights, you know that any one of them could kill you, right? You are surrounded all the time by people who could kill you."

"Thanks, Merlin. That's encouraging."

"Think about it. Why are you able to sleep surrounded by men who could kill you? When you lie down and go to sleep and Leon is keeping watch, and he's sitting five feet away from you with a sword, why are you able to sleep?"

"Because I trust him," Arthur said simply.

"Yes! Exactly! Arthur, trust your people! You're not a great king because you can control everyone around you by force. You're a great king because you inspire the loyalty of your people, so they follow you by _choice_! You don't have be the strongest or most powerful person in the room to still be a great king. Just…lead. Like you always do."

For a moment, Merlin thought Arthur understood. But then Arthur spoke again.

"I'm not the most powerful person in the room, am I Merlin? I never have been. Not since you've been my servant."

Merlin took a deep breath, trying to calm his frustration. Had Arthur completely missed the point of everything he'd just said?

"But I am loyal to you, Arthur. So my power _is_ your power."

"Hmph."

It wasn't the response that Merlin was looking for, but at least it wasn't an argument.

"If I sentenced you to death, could I even do it?"

" _What?_ "

"You being a powerful sorcerer and all. Could I kill you even if I wanted to?"

Merlin stared at him, dumbfounded. "You must be joking."

"I'm completely serious. Could I kill you?"'

Merlin shook his head. "I…I don't know? Maybe? I guess it would depend on the circumstances."

"Let me rephrase. Could I kill you against your will? Or would you have to _let_ me kill you?" Arthur's voice was still even, but there was an edge to it that created a flurry of panic in Merlin's stomach.

"Let's not find out," Merlin said, trying to keep his own voice calm. "This entire conversation is ridiculous."

"I couldn't, could I? I have an entire kingdom. An entire army. The power of the crown. But in the end, I have no power over you, do I?"

"You are my _king_ , Arthur!"

"Stand up," Arthur ordered suddenly, rising to his feet. Merlin scrambled to follow, watching him uncertainly.

Then Arthur drew his sword, and Merlin took a step back.

"What are you doing? I haven't lied to you, I promise, Arthur!"

"I'm not going to kill you, Merlin," Arthur said thoughtfully. "At least, not unless you let me."

* * *

Merlin took several steps back from Arthur before tripping and landing on the ground. Arthur found this strangely comforting. It was a sign that the Merlin he knew – the clumsy and occasionally incompetent one – was still there.

"Arthur," Merlin said frantically, "this is absurd. You see that, right?"

"You could stop me without hurting me, couldn't you?" He spun the sword lightly, taking a step towards Merlin. Merlin clambered back to his feet.

"Why?" he demanded. "Why on earth do you want to do this?"

Why _did_ he want to do this?

"I want to understand," Arthur said, trying to figure out the truth as he spoke. "I have no power over you to force your loyalty. You're not even from Camelot – you grew up in Cenred's kingdom. My kingdom has killed sorcerers like you for longer than you've been alive. And yet you claim to be loyal to me."

Merlin apparently held the power in their relationship. He wanted to see what the sorcerer would do with it.

He took another step towards Merlin, but Merlin didn't take a step back this time. He just shook his head.

"How would you attacking me help you understand anything?"

He didn't sound angry or defensive. He sounded…disappointed.

Disappointed in Arthur.

"It's not about me attacking you, Merlin. It's about what you do in response."

Arthur took another step toward him. He was within reach with his sword now.

"Don't do this, Arthur." Merlin's voice was suddenly tired and defeated. "It won't prove anything."

Arthur had trained since birth to be a warrior. Wielding a sword had come more naturally to him than anything else in his life. His control was perfect and precise.

He knew Merlin believed it when he swung. He saw the fear and, even worse, the devastation in Merlin's eyes as his arms flew up automatically to shield his face. He saw it in the way Merlin pulled back, crouching down.

Merlin believed Arthur was going to kill him.

Arthur waited for his eyes to flash with the fire of sorcery. He waited to be thrown back, to be knocked down, to be… stopped.

But there was nothing.

His sword flew within an inch of Merlin's body before it hit the dirt. And there was nothing.

It took Merlin a moment to realize he was still alive. When he finally looked at Arthur, his eyes were wide with shock, his breath coming in gasps. And then he understood.

"What the _hell_ was that?" he yelled, and to Arthur's astonishment, Merlin shoved him. "What did that prove, Arthur, other than that you're a bully?"

But if Merlin was shocked, Arthur was sure it couldn't compare to his own disbelief.

"Why didn't you protect yourself?" he asked dumbly.

"Are you kidding me?"

"I swung a sword at you. Why didn't you protect yourself? I would have killed you! You would have _let_ me kill you! Why didn't you stop me?"

Merlin scoffed disbelievingly. "Is that what this was about? Proving who has the most power? Proving that when it came down to me against you, you would ultimately win?" Merlin turned away from him, running his hand through his hair and laughing. When he turned back to face Arthur, he had tears in his eyes.

"Arthur, why is it so hard for you to believe that someone would follow you not because they fear you, or because they have to because of where they were born, or out of any kind of obligation, but just because they truly believe _you're worth following_? Is that so unbelievable? That I would follow you by choice? That I would submit to you by choice, regardless of how powerful I am?"

Merlin flung his arms out to his side helplessly. "You are my king, Arthur. Because I choose Camelot. I choose you. And yes, I may be destined to protect you and help you, but I choose it too. I choose to fulfill my destiny. I could walk away, but I don't. And I won't." And then he added furiously, "You arrogant, bullying, _prat_!"

The shock was beginning to wear off, and Arthur's head was starting to hurt.

"It's a little hard to believe," he admitted, rubbing his forehead. "I…I'm sorry, Merlin. That was…you're right. That was insane. And ridiculous. I don't know what came over me." He laughed shakily and shook his head. "I can't believe I nearly killed you, and you responded by giving a heartwarming speech about your loyalty to me."

"I can hardly believe it myself," Merlin muttered. Arthur recognized the words from Anhora's test at Gedref and couldn't help but smile. Merlin recognized them just a heartbeat later, and he caught Arthur's eye and let out a short laugh.

"Did you use magic then?" Arthur asked him. "To save me from the poison?"

"No." Merlin shook his head and gave Arthur a small smile. "Not that time. It really was just a sleeping draught."

"So I guess not every moment was a lie."

"No, Arthur. There was truth in there too." Merlin rubbed a hand over his face. "I've promised to be honest with you, and I'm trying to do my best to help you through this. But I don't know what you need from me."

Arthur sighed, and, realizing he was still holding his sword, slid it back into its sheath. "Like the dragon said, Merlin. Just time. Give me time."

Arthur shoved him lightly with his shoulder as he walked by, heading back towards camp. And moments later he heard Merlin's footsteps, following behind him.


	13. Chapter 13

"You should have told me." Arthur felt like he had worn the words out, he had said them so many times. But he kept coming back to them. "It wasn't your choice to make."

"It had to be me," Merlin said dully from where he rode beside him. "There was no one else to make it."

"Well, the Crown Prince was right there. Perhaps _he_ could have weighed in on the issue?"

"Yeah, that would gone well. 'Arthur, Morgause is almost here and we're all going to die because everyone is asleep, and the great dragon thinks Morgana's the cause. What would _your_ thoughts be on poisoning her?'" The words were joking, but Merlin's tone was curt. "I didn't exactly have time to bring you up to speed. The Knights of Medhir were going to kill Uther, and then they would have killed you. Camelot was going to fall to Morgause."

Arthur shook his head. "You misunderstand me, Merlin. I mean, I was the prince. I was born with the responsibility to make decisions about how to keep Camelot from falling. To decide who should live and who must die so my people could thrive. That's my weight to carry. You shouldn't have had to make that decision."

"But I did," Merlin insisted. "If there's no one else who can make it, then I have to make it."

Arthur sighed. Merlin still didn't get it. This wasn't about being angry with Merlin for keeping secrets from him. This was about Merlin overstepping - _hugely_ overstepping – over and over again in the name of protecting Arthur and Camelot. Magic or not, he had no right. "You should have trusted me long ago, Merlin, instead of playing king."

Merlin sat up indignantly. "I do _not_ play king!"

"Yes, you do. When you make decisions that are the king's to make, you're playing king. Which is wrong and not your place, by the way. But it's also not your problem to deal with. It's mine."

"Your problems _are_ my problems," Merlin grumbled insolently, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

He glanced sideways at his servant, taking in the paleness of his face and tight set of his jaw. Merlin had warned Arthur before he started that this particular story would be a difficult one to tell, and that had clearly proven true. Merlin could hardly get out the words when he spoke of poisoning Morgana, and he had looked terrified as he explained he had been the one to free the Great Dragon.

It had been a long morning. Part of Arthur wanted to rest, both from the riding and from the stories, but part of him couldn't bear to stop. He couldn't imagine anything feeling restful when he knew there were still years' worth of lies to parse through. He never knew what was coming next, and he needed the truth out before he could relax or focus on anything else.

It was clear, however, that Merlin was not going to get through everything before they arrived back at Camelot, and Arthur couldn't really justify another day of riding in circles. He _did_ have a kingdom he was responsible for, after all. And he knew once they were back in Camelot, everyday duties couldn't be ignored, and it would take longer to go through the rest of the stories.

So what did he most want to know? Merlin had been going chronologically, but was there anything Arthur should prioritize?

"Have you ever used magic on me?" Arthur asked, fearing he already knew the answer. Merlin at least had the decency to look properly afraid when he answered.

"Uh, what do you mean exactly by 'on you?'" he asked.

"Not a good answer, Merlin. I mean absolutely anything that could possibly be interpreted as meaning 'on me.'"

Merlin nodded. "Well, I don't usually use magic _on_ you. Just around you. You know, changing the direction of an arrow so it misses you or making an opponent drop his sword. Something like that."

"But sometimes you use magic on me directly." It wasn't a question. "When?"

Merlin let out a noisy exhale. "Okay. Yes. Sometimes. Like when you've been a prat." Arthur raised his eyebrows, and Merlin continued on in a rush. "Okay, remember two weeks ago, when you used me for moving target practice the entire morning, and then made fun of me for tripping and called me useless in front of everyone?"

"Not specifically, but I believe you. Go on."

Merlin glowered at him.

"Remember how you walked away and immediately slipped in a mud puddle and landed on your royal ass?"

Arthur turned to look at him in shock. "That was _you_?" he cried, indignant.

Merlin shrugged. "Sometimes when you're being an exceptionally arrogant prat, I just… take you down a peg. That's all."

Arthur growled, but let it go. "What else?"

"Remember when you were engaged to Princess Mithian, even though you were _clearly_ still in love with Gwen and had absolutely no business being involved with anyone else?"

Arthur frowned, but nodded.

"And, uh… remember how you struggled a little bit with the manners and etiquette of polite company during your time with her?"

"Oh, you _must_ be kidding." Since discovering Merlin's secret, Arthur's anger always hovered just below the surface; it never truly went away. Now he felt it surging again. "You're the most powerful sorcerer in the world, and you used your powers to make me look foolish in front of a pretty girl?"

Merlin looked entirely unrepentant. "You belong with Gwen. You were just being too stubborn to see it then. I was saving you from your own foolishness."

"It wasn't your place, Merlin!"

Merlin finally looked uneasy. "I was just trying to help, Arthur. Honest."

Arthur rubbed his forehead, feeling the dull ache return. "What else?" he asked wearily. To his concern, Merlin didn't answer immediately. Looking over, he saw Merlin watching him nervously. "What?"

"I told you the funny ones first to try to loosen you up for the bad one. I don't think it worked," he said worriedly.

"There's a bad one?" Arthur asked, resigned. Merlin nodded apologetically.

"I'm afraid so. But I swear, I did it to help you and to help Camelot."

"That's what you always say." If Arthur was tired of saying "you should have told me," he was equally tired of hearing "I did it to help you and Camelot." It seemed Merlin had committed crimes daily since arriving in Camelot, all with the best of intentions. "Okay. Get on with it then."

"Remember when Morgana attacked with the Southron army?"

"Not likely to forget it."

"And you were wounded. You needed to rest and heal. But you were absolutely determined you were going to die fighting to defend Camelot. Even though the battle was lost and really what you _needed_ to do was get out, recover, and regroup. Which is exactly what you did, mind you, and we came back and won, so clearly that was the right path."

"Merlin," Arthur said warningly.

"You refused to leave, Arthur. It was suicide, but you were determined to stay. So I…" Merlin swallowed, and Arthur noticed he actually pulled his horse farther away before he continued.

Great. So whatever it was, Merlin was expecting him to respond with violence. That was encouraging.

"What did you do, Merlin?"

"Iputanenchantmentonyou." It came out in one big rush, then he said it again, remorsefully. "I put an enchantment on you. One that made you more… cooperative. So you would do what I said. And then I told you we had to leave, and you came willingly."

Arthur suddenly felt cold. Because for all of the stories Merlin had told, this was the first time he truly felt Merlin was dangerous. Was a danger to _him_.

"You used magic to control me? To control my decisions?" He was proud of himself for making the words come out calmly, but he couldn't stop the edge in his tone.

Merlin had joked and argued and even dismissed Arthur's objections as he had told previous stories, but there was no humor in his eyes for this one. At least he seemed to realize this time, he had crossed a line.

"Just temporarily. Just to get you away long enough to save your life. I could have done it other ways – I could have just put you to sleep and carried you. But it would have been slower, and we might have gotten caught."

"So instead, the most powerful sorcerer in the world bent the king to his will." It was what Arthur feared most from magic. Not the flashy displays of fireballs or the repulsive outbreaks of disease, but the subtle power of manipulation. "You _controlled_ me."

Merlin nodded. "I'm sorry. But I had to protect you. I'm not sure you understand that. I _had_ to protect you."

This one would take time to process. The ache in Arthur's head turned into a throbbing.

"Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of off the top of my head," Merlin said, looking relieved to be moving on. "Other than healing you, obviously. That's a pretty common one. You get hurt a lot."

Arthur nodded, but ignored the jibe. He didn't feel like laughing right then.

"Oh!" Merlin said suddenly, scrunching up his face unpleasantly. "There is one more. It's not bad though. I mean, it's not good, but it's not bad like that last one."

* * *

"How's it going?" Gwaine asked as Merlin scrambled back towards them, allowing Arthur to once again ride alone up ahead.

"Uh…okay. I think. All things considered." Merlin tried to smile reassuringly, but the speed by which he had joined them belied his supposed calm, and his eyes were worried.

"Arthur looks mad."

"Yeah, he didn't like a story I told him. Understandably so. It was kind of bad. And then he didn't like another story, which honestly is pretty funny. I think he just didn't see the humor, because he was already mad about the first story." Then despite himself, Merlin laughed. "Sorry," he said, struggling to contain it. "It's not funny. Not right now when he's upset."

Gwaine felt relieved to see his friend laughing after such a tense couple of days, but he was also extremely curious.

"This sounds good. Let's hear it."

Merlin shook his head. "I'm not sure I should. I think it might just make him angrier."

"Oh, come on," Gwaine insisted. "You said it was funny."

Merlin looked sideways at Leon, as though half expecting Arthur's closest knight to stop him, but Leon just smiled blandly and said nothing.

Of course, Gwaine knew, Leon would never encourage anyone to do something that might upset Arthur. But Gwaine could tell by his deliberate nonchalance that he wanted to hear the story too.

"Fine," Merlin said. "One time, I might have made Arthur's pants fall down during a council meeting."

Gwaine almost choked on his laugh. "You _what_?"

"I remember when that happened!" Leon exclaimed. "That was you?" Merlin shrugged sheepishly. "But… _why_?"

"I, uh, needed to steal his keys off his belt."

"Why?" Leon asked, his humor starting to transition to suspicion.

"To steal something from the vaults?" Merlin admitted with a wince.

" _Why_?"

"So I could steal the last dragon egg from the Tomb of Ashkanar and hatch it, thereby ensuring dragons wouldn't go extinct." Merlin swallowed hard and smiled.

"By the gods, Merlin, is that how all of these stories go?" Gwaine asked in shock. "A lighthearted joke that flows smoothly into treason?"

"Yes," a dark voice called from up ahead. "And that's just one of them. I've been listening to them for two days."

They all jumped; they hadn't realized Arthur had slowed down enough to hear them. But the anger seemed to have gone out of him. Now he just looked tired.

"Well, sire," Gwaine said brightly, "in that case, congratulations on not stabbing him yet."

"Traitor," Merlin muttered next to him, but Gwaine just grinned at him.

"Thank you, Gwaine. Glad someone appreciates the effort that takes at the moment." Arthur shook his head. "I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I really think I could use one of those stories where you drink too much and beat someone up."

Gwaine noted the slump in the king's posture and the fatigue in his voice. He had worried about Merlin since the revelation of his secret, but now he wondered if he shouldn't be more worried about Arthur. What kind of king would he be if he and Merlin didn't work things out? Arthur needed Merlin. Everyone knew that.

But right now, apparently what Arthur needed was a distraction.

"Happy to oblige, sire. You know I live to serve."


	14. Chapter 14

"Merlin, your cheerfulness is becoming downright irritating," Arthur snapped. They were only an hour or so from Camelot, and his servant seemed to be positively buzzing with happiness as they drew closer to home. "Do you even realize you're in more trouble than you've ever been in your entire life?"

"But not as much trouble as I could be in," Merlin replied cheerily.

"I haven't changed my mind, you know. I still plan on making your life miserable." Arthur wished Merlin would show _some_ kind of nervousness in response to Arthur's threats.

"I know." And Merlin _grinned_ at him. "But you're not going to kill me."

"You're this happy just because you're not going to be executed?" Leon questioned. "You set your standards low, Merlin."

They rode in silence for a couple of minutes before Merlin spoke again.

"You don't realize," he began, and although his voice was still warm, it grew solemn. "We're going home, and this will be the first time in my life – literally, the first time in my entire life – that I won't have to live in fear of being discovered."

Merlin was right. Arthur hadn't realized that.

"My earliest memories are of my mother trying to teach me how important it was to keep my magic a secret. Starting when I was three, she took me to every sorcerer's execution within a day's travel, just so I could see what happened to people if their magic were discovered."

"She _what_?" Elyan gasped, appalled.

"Don't judge her," Merlin answered sharply. "She was trying to keep me alive. Which was no easy task. Once she took me to an execution and caught me turning spiders into butterflies while we were waiting. Because I was bored. _While we were at the execution._ " He shook his head as though in disbelief at his own stupidity. "Despite all of her efforts, I just couldn't seem to help myself. Why have magic if you can't use it?"

"Wait," Arthur cut in. "Three? I thought you said warlocks started feeling their powers when they were teenagers?"

Merlin grinned cheekily. "I said most warlocks. I'm not most warlocks."

"I feel like I might regret asking this," Arthur said, already bracing himself for the answer, "but when did you start having magic?"

"My mother caught me the first time when I was about four months old."

Arthur was taken aback by that. "Four months? How does that even work? You couldn't even walk!"

Merlin shrugged. "I had a favorite blanket. One time my mom took it for washing, and left it by the door while she collected the other bedding to wash. She came back in, and I had the blanket again. She thought she must have misremembered. So she took it again, and went to get the clothes for washing. When she came back in that time, she saw the blanket flying through the air to me, my eyes glowing." Merlin laughed, and then grew somber. "She says it was the most terrifying moment of her life. She was sure I would never live to be an adult."

"What did you do besides move objects? When you were a baby, I mean?"

"Light fires when I got cold. My mother wasn't wild about that one either, but fortunately I seemed to understand early that fires go in the fireplace. I'd make it windy because I liked listening to the chimes. Things like that. Once I got older, I learned to be a little more intentional about it. Although I never really did learn not to use it when people were around."

And then Merlin smiled. Maybe the most genuine, peaceful smile Arthur had ever seen on him.

"I have lived my entire life in fear of what would happen if I were discovered. And now I don't have to be afraid anymore."

Arthur's hands clenched more tightly on the reins, and with some exasperation, he realized he was feeling the familiar rush of protectiveness over Merlin.

"Can we see it?" Gwaine asked.

"See what?" Merlin replied innocently, but Arthur was already wincing. He'd been expecting this. Honestly, he was surprised it hadn't happened sooner.

"Magic," Gwaine said. "I mean, for all we know, you're all talk."

Merlin glanced at Arthur, and he shrugged, doing his best to appear uninterested. "Fine. Why not?"

Merlin smiled again, then thought for a moment. His eyes flashed gold, and Arthur had to look away. He didn't look like Merlin when his eyes turned gold. He looked like what Arthur feared: a powerful stranger.

For a moment, Arthur wasn't sure what the magic had done. And then he saw that slowly, vines were growing up the trees on either side of them, sprouting bright, colorful flowers. Below them, more flowers popped up on the road, so they were encased in a tunnel of color and sweet scents.

It was beautiful.

"Wow," Elyan whispered, his eyes following the falling petals. The others looked equally entranced, smiling in wonder. Then Percival sneezed, snapping Arthur back to reality.

"You're such a girl," he scoffed dismissively, wiping the awe from his face. "Why is everything flowers and butterflies for you, Merlin?"

Merlin scowled at him. A moment later, Arthur noticed butterflies swarming around his hands. Then he looked down and saw them around his legs, and then, to his horror, he realized he was completely surrounded by butterflies. He swatted at them angrily, and they dispersed. It was over almost before it had begun.

"Merlin!" Arthur yelled angrily.

"Why'd you make them go away?" Gwaine protested. "Arthur being attacked by butterflies? That would have made a brilliant story!"

"He was swatting at them," Merlin explained. "I didn't want them to get hurt."

Arthur rubbed his hand over his face.

This was his mighty sorcerer. The most powerful man and the biggest liar in the world.

And when given freedom to use his powers, he grew flowers and conjured butterflies, and then _protected_ the butterflies.

It was just so… _Merlin_. Which somehow just made it all the more confusing.


	15. Chapter 15

"Gaius."

Gaius looked up, startled, to see the king standing in his doorway. Arthur had his arms crossed and he was smiling in a decidedly unfriendly way.

"Sire! I didn't realize you were back. Please, come in." He hurried to clear a spot at the table for Arthur, but the king remained standing.

"I was hoping to have a word," Arthur said, closing the door behind him.

"Of course," Gaius replied, puzzled by the king's manner.

"About your ward."

Oh no. What had Merlin done now? Gaius tried to look as innocent and ignorant as he could.

"About Merlin?"

"Yes. About Merlin. About him being a powerful sorcerer?" Arthur raised his eyebrows and took a couple of steps into the room. Gaius resisted the urge to take a couple of steps back. "And about how you harbored him for ten years?"

Before he could say more, Merlin came barreling into the room at full speed, nearly hitting Arthur with the door.

"Arthur!"

"Get out, Merlin," Arthur ordered.

"Arthur, you promised Gaius wouldn't be in trouble!" he insisted, blue eyes flashing with panic.

Arthur grabbed Merlin by the back of neck and marched him out the door. "I said Gaius wouldn't get in trouble for telling you basic information about magic. I said nothing about what would happen to him for harboring a sorcerer." Arthur shoved Merlin into the hallway and slammed the door and barred it. Then he took a step back and watched it for several seconds.

"You needn't look so worried," he said after a moment, glancing over at Gaius. "You _are_ in trouble, but I'm not going to do anything to you, Gaius. Other than yell. Possibly a lot."

Gaius blinked in surprise. "Then why did you tell Merlin…?"

Apparently content that the door would stay closed, Arthur finally took the seat Gaius had cleared for him at the table. He sat back in the chair, still watching the door from the corner of his eye.

"I wanted to see how he'd respond," he said. "He's protective of you."

Gaius felt completely lost. "Sire?"

But before Arthur could answer, the bar fell to the floor and the door flew open again, and Merlin rushed back inside.

"I'm sorry, but Arthur, please don't blame him. It's my fault, not his!"

Arthur looked murderous.

"Merlin," he said firmly. "You will leave this room. You will close the door. And you will trust me, as king, to handle a criminal situation in the way that I see just and fit."

The two stared at each other for a long moment until Merlin finally looked at Gaius. Gaius gave him a reassuring nod, and Merlin glared one last time at Arthur before he left, slamming the door behind him.

"Sire," Gaius said, taking the seat across from him, "what on earth is going on?"

"I was just trying to see if he trusts me. Which he clearly doesn't. He says he thinks I'm a good king, but he never seems to remember he thinks that when it comes time to trust my judgment." Arthur sighed, then shook his head as though to clear it. "But I do need to yell at you. Because Gaius, you harbored a sorcerer for _ten years_ without telling me!"

Gaius raised his chin defiantly. "Merlin was no threat to you or to Camelot, Arthur. I was sure of it."

"But you _lied_ to me, Gaius! I've trusted you my entire life! My father trusted you! And you lied!" Arthur's voice was raised, but Gaius didn't hear any true anger in it. Just exhaustion and frustration. Gaius wondered worriedly how much yelling Arthur had already done.

"I lived through the Great Purge, sire," Gaius reminded him quietly. "I saw hundreds slain. And I love Merlin as a son. I am loyal to you, Arthur, as I was loyal to Uther. But I would not risk Merlin's life. I _could_ not risk Merlin's life."

To Gaius's surprise, Arthur rested his elbows on the table and buried his head in his hands wearily.

"I understand that. I just wish you had trusted me enough to know that I wouldn't risk Merlin's life either."

* * *

"How is it," Arthur snapped as soon as he walked in the door, "that there are so many people in my life who swear they are loyal to me, but seem to think I'm a monster?"

Gwen blinked and pulled up short. She had been moving across the room to embrace her husband, but that was not the greeting she was expecting.

"Hello to you too, Arthur. What's wrong?" When he didn't immediately answer, she prodded blindly, "Did the search for the prophecy go poorly?"

Arthur plopped himself into a chair. The prophecy. Emrys. He had nearly forgotten that's how all of this had started. Had it been mere days ago that he had set out for Lord Elric's, obsessed with finding the truth behind the rumors?

Gwen sat down tentatively across from him. "Did something happen, Arthur?"

He laughed.

"Did you know Merlin was in love? A few years ago?" he asked suddenly. Gwen blinked, taken aback.

"No, he never said anything to me about it. Are you sure?"

"Very sure." Arthur leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. He hadn't really thought about how much he would tell Gwen. He wasn't in the habit of keeping secrets from her, but he also knew that she had been friends with Merlin for a long time. For a moment, he wondered if he should let Merlin tell her himself. Then he decided that Merlin had had ten years of chances to tell people himself. He wasn't feeling particularly generous towards the man who had lied to him. And who apparently thought he would _hurt Gaius_.

Besides, as soon as he told her, she would just go hunt Merlin down to hear it from him directly anyway.

"Merlin got shot with an arrow. Twice. And almost died. And was healed by magic by his former love, whom I apparently killed. It turns out he's Emrys. And he's lied about a lot of things."

The short and sweet account of their trip. It captured absolutely none of the torment of it.

Gwen looked at him sideways, struggling for a moment to respond. Finally she said, "I thought Emrys was a sorcerer."

Arthur sighed heavily. "Yes. He is. A powerful one. That's where the lies came in."

She opened her mouth, closed it again, and then stood up. "Arthur, would you mind if I talked to Merlin myself?"

He snorted and waved his hand. "Have fun."

She made it halfway to the door before she came back and surprised him with a kiss. "I'm glad you're home."

* * *

Gwen found Merlin in the stables, putting away the gear from the horses.

"Hi." She smiled as normally as she could, trying not to seem like she was ambushing him. But Merlin took one look at her and sighed.

"He told you."

"He told me he thinks you're Emrys," she said slowly, as though testing out the words. Merlin gave her an unhappy smile in return. "And...some other things. It's true then?" she asked, stepping closer and lowering her voice.

"I guess that depends on what other things he said. If he said lots of terrible things about me betraying him, then no. If he said that I'm a sorcerer who has lied and kept secrets, then yes." He looked so glum and guilty that Gwen immediately wanted to try to comfort him, but she also needed to process this new information.

"He didn't say anything about betrayal. Just about Emrys and the lies, and then something about you nearly dying, and apparently something about a girl?" She wouldn't have thought it was possible, but Merlin seemed to deflate even more.

"It was a hard few days. How did he seem? Did he seem okay?" Merlin asked anxiously.

Gwen tried to smile, but she and Merlin had never been ones to lie to each other.

Well. She had never been one to lie to Merlin.

"He seems upset," she admitted. "And confused. And tired."

Merlin sat down on a hay bale and buried his head in his hands. "I've screwed it all up, Gwen. I'm trying to do the right thing – I was always trying to do the right thing. But every time I start to feel hopeful, I do something else to mess things up. Like the thing with Gaius."

She frowned. "What thing with Gaius?"

Merlin sighed. "Guess he didn't mention that bit. It doesn't matter. Just another thing I did to make him mad."

"Oh, Merlin." She put her hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "You two will figure it out. You always do." She couldn't keep the slight note of reproach out of her voice as she added, "I wish you'd been honest with me."

Merlin groaned into his hands. "You have no idea how many times I have heard that recently. I'm avoiding Gwaine, because I'm sure I'm going to get an earful from him as soon as he gets me alone."

Gwen couldn't resist laughing. "It's only because we care about you, Merlin."

Merlin nodded and let his hands drop. "You seem to be taking this well," he noted skeptically.

"That's because I am completely in denial," she said with a sincere smile. "Right now, I know Arthur is upset and you're upset. And I know how to deal with upset people. I'll think about the whole magic thing later."

Merlin smiled weakly. "Try not to hate me too much when you get around to it."

Gwen smiled and sat down next to him, putting her arm around his shoulders. "I could never hate you, Merlin," she said, squeezing her friend into a hug.

He let her hug him for a moment and then pulled away. "Thanks, Gwen. Now get out of here. Arthur needs you more than I do right now. Besides, the stables are no place for a queen."

She opened her mouth to argue that last point, but Merlin firmly shoved her out the door before she had the chance.


	16. Chapter 16

"Come on, Merlin. Stop lollygagging," Arthur ordered as they made their way to the king's chambers.

"I'm not _lollygagging_ ," Merlin protested. "I'm _sore_. You've been beating on me in training practically every day for the last month! And on the days you're not training, you insist on using me for moving target practice for the knights!"

"If you recall, I did promise to pummel you to within an inch of your life," Arthur reminded him, giving his servant his sunniest smile as they entered his chambers. "And since you're still upright, I haven't fulfilled that promise yet, have I?"

He took off his sword and tossed it at Merlin, who grunted as it hit him.

"There is not a single muscle in my body that doesn't hurt," Merlin continued his complaint. "And Gaius won't even give me anything for the pain!"

"That's because I told him not to," Arthur said cheerfully. "Not unless you're actually injured and need it."

"You did _what_?" Merlin gaped at him. "You prat!"

"The entire point of this is to torture you. Not much point in inflicting pain and then letting Gaius ease it, is there?"

"You're an ass, Arthur," Merlin grumbled.

"And you're a liar."

That statement ended the argument, as it had ended countless arguments over the past month.

"I have a council meeting this afternoon," Arthur moved on. "I could make you come – that would be its own kind of torture – but I have another chore in mind for you."

"But I still have to finish mucking the stables!"

"You do?" Arthur looked at him questioningly. "I thought you were doing that yesterday."

There was a long moment of silence, which prompted Arthur to cross his arms and scowl at Merlin. He had learned what these long silences meant. A long silence is where, a month ago, Merlin would have provided a quick lie. As far as Arthur knew, Merlin had kept his word to be honest, but these silences were disturbing indicators of just how frequently Merlin had lied to him in the past.

Not to mention Arthur very rarely liked the truth that eventually came after the silence.

Sure enough, Merlin squirmed uncomfortably under Arthur's glare. "I only got partway through," he admitted. "I had to spend some time yesterday afternoon on things. Other things. Besides the stables."

"Merlin," Arthur warned, and Merlin took a deep breath and let the words all out in a rush.

"I heard the scouts saying Elric's army is only days away. I spent some time yesterday doing some enchantments. Mostly putting some protective wards around the citadel. And some protection charms on your armor." Merlin forced a smile, as though that might help persuade Arthur that this was good news.

Arthur breathed deeply, counted to ten, and imagined himself throttling Merlin, which were all strategies that he'd used frequently over the past month. And when that didn't work to calm him down, he remembered how Merlin had looked with the arrows sticking out him. That didn't make him feel better, but it did anchor him and remind him that this was still _Merlin_ , and he didn't actually want him dead.

"Protective wards?" he repeated.

Merlin nodded nervously. "Yes. They're spells that help reinforce the walls and repel enemies."

"Reinforce walls and repel enemies," Arthur repeated. "That should be helpful for our armies and the people in the citadel."

"That's the idea," Merlin said cautiously. He seemed to realize that Arthur was not complimenting or thanking him, but he clearly didn't know where the conversation was headed.

"Huh. Sounds like the sort of the decision that should be made by…oh, I don't know, maybe someone who is in charge of the armies? Maybe someone who is in charge of the defenses of the citadel?"

Merlin blinked. "What? You?"

Arthur exhaled very slowly. "Yes, Merlin. Me. You did this without even talking to me about it, much less getting my approval!"

Merlin stared at him, puzzled. "You want me to talk to you before performing protective enchantments?"

Arthur realized it had truly never even occurred to Merlin to discuss performing enchantments prior to actually doing them. Merlin hadn't intended to be sneaky. The thought had just literally never crossed his mind.

"Merlin," Arthur said as patiently as he was able, "I recognize that you may be able to provide certain services that would be beneficial to Camelot. I'm still trying to figure out how I feel about that and what place magic has in Camelot, if any. But you can't just do these things behind my back. If you think it would be good idea for you to use magic to help us win a battle, then you need to tell me that. You need to help me understand exactly what it is you want to do. And you need to let _me_ decide what we do from there."

Merlin opened his mouth to argue, but Arthur pressed on. "Can you imagine if my knights just randomly decided to follow their own judgment instead of doing what they've been ordered when we go into battle?"

"I'm not a knight," Merlin protested, "and it wasn't random. I know more about sorcery than you do, Arthur! I know what I'm doing! Why can't you trust me?"

"Why can't _you_ trust _me_?" Arthur raised his voice until he was nearly yelling, and he could see Merlin struggling to hold his own temper in check. He counted to ten again before continuing, trying keeping his voice calm.

"Merlin, I'm not saying you don't know what to do or that I won't listen to you. I'm just saying, talk to me first. I'm the king. Protecting Camelot is my responsibility. You said your power is my power, but I can't use that power to protect my people when I don't know what's happening!"

Merlin's shoulders slumped, and Arthur could see the fight go out of him. "So next time, I should talk to you first instead of just doing it?"

"Yes," Arthur confirmed, relieved. "Exactly. I don't even know what's _possible_ with magic. I need for you to help me understand what the options are. And then I need you to trust me to make the decisions about how to protect my people."

"Fine." Merlin made a face. "It was simpler when I could just do it though."

"Yes, well, you're living in a different world now, aren't you? One that isn't filled with lies," Arthur snapped. Then he felt an unexpected pang of pity. "Merlin," he added more gently, "this is part of not living completely isolated by your secrets. Yes, it's harder. But it also means you aren't doing everything alone."

Arthur watched Merlin process those words, and he was rewarded with one of those genuine and unguarded smiles that he had seen a few times in the past month. "I thought I was the one who was supposed to make the wise speeches."

"I hardly think anyone would call you wise," Arthur said dismissively. "Besides," he added with a bright smile, "when you bring these things to me instead of just doing them, then I know how you're spending your time, and you don't end up with the double the amount of chores. Because now you have to finish mucking out the stables _and_ you have to finish my special little project this afternoon."

"Oh no." Merlin's face fell.

"Come on! I haven't even told you what it is yet!"

"You would not look that happy unless it was something truly awful."

Arthur grinned. "True. I realized we haven't had a deep cleaning of all of the chamber pots in the castle since – well, ever. It's probably about time we take care of that, huh?" He clapped Merlin on the shoulder. "Make sure you get every single one. And Merlin?"

"I know," Merlin muttered. "No magic."

* * *

"For a man of his means, Elric has done an impressive job of amassing an army," one of the counselors said. "But he is not a king, and his forces remain weak in comparison to Camelot's."

Arthur nodded. This was not surprising.

"What I still don't understand," the man continued, "is why he has chosen to take action now?"

Arthur sighed. "I believe I know the answer to that. I suspect it has to do with the contents of the prophecy he stole."

"But without knowing the contents ourselves, we cannot know his motivations," another man pointed out.

Arthur had gone back and forth about this for the past month. He was out of time. He had to make a decision about how much he was willing to share.

"I know the contents of the prophecy," he admitted reluctantly, and he was rewarded with several gasps around the table. "It does indeed say that the sorcerer Emrys will be a powerful ally to Camelot. I believe Elric is acting now because he believes that once Emrys allies himself with us, he will have no further chance. He also knows we have been pursuing information about the prophecy, and he may believe us to be uncertain and preoccupied right now."

"How do you know this?"

Arthur looked down at the table, choosing his words carefully. "Someone passed the contents of the prophecy onto me in confidence, and at great personal risk to themselves. I trust the source." He looked up then and smiled at the counsel. "Elric has no secret weapon, no secret agenda. He is a weak and foolish man picking a fight he cannot win. How far is his army?"

"Two day's march, sire."

Arthur nodded. "We'll be ready for them. It should be short and sweet."

_Especially if Emrys agrees to fight on our side._


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say thank you, because I have never had more fun in this fandom than I have this week. Somehow both of my current stories have ended up being a bit more contentious than I expected, but instead of people being nasty about it (which I’ve unfortunately had some experience with recently elsewhere), people have been both enthusiastic and respectful. And as a result, I’ve had some fun discussions, and tbh, kind of just had my faith in humanity restored. You guys have given my heart some much-needed encouragement this week.
> 
> I said I was just going to move this story over from FFnet and not do any rewriting. But as a result of some helpful feedback on earlier chapters and rereading this after months of distance, I couldn’t resist the temptation to rework this chapter. It’s honestly still not where I’d like it to be (and I think it's a little tonally inconsistent with the rest of the story now 😕), but I gave myself a deadline for getting this done, so I gotta turn it loose. And I do think it’s still better than the original, even if there were some things from the original I was sad to lose.
> 
> Tl;dr: You guys are awesome. Thank you.

"Arthur?" Merlin spotted the familiar figure standing on the roof, looking out over Camelot as the sun set. He made an imposing figure with his arms crossed, the crown still resting on his head from the council meeting earlier.

He looked like a king, and Merlin felt an unexpected stab of pride, despite his lingering annoyance about that afternoon's chores. It sneaked up on him sometimes, in moments like this. He would forget about Arthur the prat. He would forget that Arthur could be arrogant or condescending or funny or mischievous. This was Arthur the king, who was brave and kindhearted and determined. The Once and Future King, who would do anything for his people, and who would lead them into the age of Albion.

"How long have you been up here?" Merlin asked, joining him. "Your dinner is cold."

Arthur lips twitched into a small smile, his eyes still looking into the distance. "I'm sure you can warm it up again."

Merlin stared, unnerved. He hadn't thought they had reached the point of joking about his magic.

“What are you doing?” he asked, following Arthur’s gaze to the city below and the forest beyond.

“Thinking,” he said after a minute. “I need to present a battleplan to the knights tomorrow morning. Elric’s army should be here the day after that.”

Merlin probably should have guessed that, really. But the pause before Arthur spoke, the way he chewed at the corner of his lip, told Merlin the king was distracted from the task. He waited, assuming he had more to say, but Arthur just went back to staring in silence.

“How’s it going?” he asked finally.

“I’m getting there.”

Merlin felt a stab of pity as he recognized the pre-battle nerves in the king’s eyes.

“It will be fine, Arthur,” he said confidently. “Your knights are the best in the five kingdoms, and you have all of the advantages. You know the terrain and you’re well-prepared. The people are already moving in from the surrounding villages to take shelter. You have nothing to fear.”

Arthur’s mouth tightened. “You always were good at the pep talk before battles.”

Merlin went still. Arthur couldn’t afford to be distracted by his concerns about Merlin. Not with an army approaching.

“Do you remember what you told me the night before we took Camelot back from Morgana?” Arthur asked, still not looking at him.

“Which time?”

He’d hoped that would get a smile out of Arthur, reminding him of his previous victories, but Arthur’s face remained solemn as he answered. “The second time. After I got the sword from the stone.”

Merlin had said a lot of things that night, and he had no idea which of them Arthur might remember. But the look on his face made him nervous, so he defaulted to humor.

“I think I said your head was big as your waist, if I remember correctly.”

Still no smile.

“You told me the story of Bruta’s prophecy. You said the man who freed the sword from the stone would rule over the greatest kingdom the world had ever known. You said _I_ was that man.” Arthur looked down at the ground for a moment, his arms still crossed. “It was all lies. A children’s story you made up, and like a foolish child, I believed it. And then you said you believed in me. That you always had. But that was a lie too, wasn’t it, Merlin?”

Merlin couldn’t count how many times in the past month he had wondered if he would have lied so casually and carelessly over the years had he known what the price would be. Yes, many of those lies had been necessary, but not all of them. And now he could hardly blame Arthur for not being able to see the truth among the deceit.

“I made up the part about the prophecy,” Merlin admitted. He’d already told Arthur as much. “But I was telling the truth when I said I believed in you. I was _always_ telling the truth when I said you were a great king, that you would be the greatest king history had ever known. Those weren’t lies.”

Merlin finally got his smile, but it wasn’t the amused or lighthearted one he’d hoped for. There was no joy on Arthur’s face as his mouth twisted up.

“Yes, they were. Even if you didn’t think they were.” Arthur’s voice dropped and his face turned hard; it was the face he wore when he talked about Morgana. The face he wore when forced to discuss something he could hardly bear thinking about it, must less putting it into words. “You won that fight and reclaimed the throne by stealing Morgana’s magic. Just like you defeated the immortal army, and the army of the undead, and even the dragon. I’m not a great king, Merlin. I’ve just been incompetent enough to stay out of your way.” He let out a pained laugh. “Gods, some days I don’t know whether I should arrest you or hand you my crown. I certainly haven’t done anything to deserve it.”

The blood drained from Merlin’s face.

“I don’t want your crown, Arthur,” he said, emphasizing each word.

“You want part of it,” Arthur answered bitterly. “Ironically, not the wealth or the glory, which is what most people want. But you want the authority of it.”

Merlin opened his mouth to argue, but he snapped it closed again when Arthur turned to face him.

“You know me better than anyone in the world, Merlin. Do you realize that? You know my strengths and weaknesses. You know what drives me and what scares me, and what I lose sleep over at night. And you…” Arthur bit his lip for a moment, and to Merlin’s horror, he saw his friend’s eyes glistening. “You don’t believe in me. You’re the one person I thought would follow me anywhere, but it turns out you’ve never had faith in me at all. And if _you_ can’t trust me to be your king, how can I possibly ask it of the rest of Camelot?”

“You _are_ my king,” Merlin insisted, but in his shock, the words came out weakly.

“In name, maybe,” Arthur admitted. “Maybe even in loyalty. But you don’t trust me enough to follow me. You never have.”

“That’s _not_ true!” Anger started to seep into Merlin’s horror. “I have followed you on every quest, into every fight! I have _always_ gone where you led!”

“Like you followed me to fight Morgana’s immortal army?” Arthur asked flatly. “You found out how to defeat the immortal army, but you didn’t bother to tell me. You kept that information to yourself. I made a plan based on incomplete information, which you pretended to agree to. And then you and Lancelot just did your own thing. You might have walked behind me to that battle, Merlin, but you certainly didn’t follow me. And from what you’ve told me, I could say the same thing about nearly every enemy we’ve faced together.”

It took all of Merlin’s willpower to let Arthur finish and not interrupt, because the anger was boiling inside of him now.

“You’re good with a sword,” he snapped when Arthur finished, and the king blinked in confusion.

“I beg your pardon?”

“That’s what you said the _last_ time you tried to give some ridiculous speech about not deserving to be king,” Merlin snapped. “And that’s still what you think, isn’t it? That you’ve proven your worth as the king of Camelot through military victories. That your people love you because you defeated Morgana or killed a dragon.”

Arthur seemed too surprised by his outburst to reply, so Merlin ploughed on.

“Arthur, your people love you because you risked your life for them. Because they’ve seen over and over again that you value their wellbeing over your own. They love you because you refused to collect taxes when your father issued them unjustly, and because you hold fair trials instead of convicting and punishing people based on paranoia or flimsy accusations. Because you feed them when they’re hungry and protect them when they’re scared. Because you are fair and just and selfless, and all of those things I’ve always said you are. Why does it _matter_ who defeated the immortal army? We won, didn’t we?”

“It matters because the person who knows me best, the person who has sworn all along that I am a worthy king, even when I couldn’t see it, doesn’t actually believe it,” Arthur answered. “Tell me, Merlin. Where will you be during the battle with Lord Elric?”

Merlin went still. “Is that a trick question?”

“Not at all.”

“Where do you want me to be?” Merlin asked cautiously.

Arthur’s blue eyes studied him. “If I said I wanted you out of the battle, back in the infirmary with Gaius to help the injured, would you do it?”

Merlin ran a hand through his hair, the anger abruptly extinguished and replaced with fatigue. “Please don’t ask me to do that. I can help, Arthur. I can save people’s lives if I’m part of the fight!”

Arthur nodded. “I know.”

And for a moment, Merlin thought that might be the end of it, and he was stunned that he’d won so easily.

“But you could also cost lives,” Arthur continued. “I can’t put you out there when I don’t know if you’ll follow orders. I can’t endanger my men’s lives by having a rogue sorcerer among them.”

“I’m not a rogue sorcerer,” Merlin protested, and Arthur snorted.

“Tell me the truth. Would you do what I ordered, even if you disagreed with it?”

Merlin hesitated, and Arthur let out a harsh laugh and nodded.

"You say I'm a great king, and a great leader, and that you trust me. But you only trust me when you're sure you know what I'll do and you agree with my decision. And that's not trust at all. That's just...agreement.” Arthur took a step closer. “I’m asking you again. If I told you to stay in the infirmary with Gaius – if I said that was where we _really_ need you the most – would you do it?”

Merlin tried to think the question through honestly. Would he? If he were tending to the wounded, Arthur would be vulnerable. How many times over would he have died already without Merlin’s protection? Merlin should be with him, not hiding away somewhere.

“That’s what I thought,” Arthur said softly when Merlin didn't answer. “We may be friends. And you may be loyal to me, even willing to die for me. But I’m not your king, Merlin.”

And Merlin knew he should go after Arthur as he walked away. He should try to argue, try to make him understand.

But he couldn’t move from his spot on the roof. Because for the first time, he realized Arthur might be right.

* * *

Arthur did his best to ignore Merlin as he brought in the breakfast tray, remaining focused on the parchment in front of him. He was trying to finalize his notes for the war council. And Merlin, for once, didn’t immediately express shock and annoyance at the fact that Arthur had managed to rouse and dress himself. Arthur heard his footsteps pause as he entered the room and realized the king was already awake. But after that pause, the steps continued, followed by the sound of Merlin laying out the food.

“Breakfast is ready, sire,” he said a moment later, and Arthur’s fought not to make a face at the sound of the title.

_Sire_. Merlin’s voice contained none of its normal irony when he spoke the word, and Arthur resisted the urge to mock him for it. After their conversation, suddenly Merlin felt the need to show propriety? Arthur couldn’t care less whether Merlin called him _sire_ or not. That wasn’t the point at all.

“Thank you,” he said instead, not looking up from the notes.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merlin move to straightening the bedsheets and tiding up the room, and for a few minutes, the two men worked in silence.

“I don’t want your crown!” The words burst out of Merlin suddenly, too loud in the quiet room, and Arthur looked up in surprise. He set down his quill and sat back in the chair, giving his servant his full attention.

“I _don’t_!” Merlin insisted, even though Arthur hadn’t argued. “I don’t want to lead anyone, and I don’t want the _authority_. All I want is to keep you safe, and to help you keep Camelot safe! And maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m not very good at being a subject, just like I’m not very good at being a servant. But that doesn’t mean you’re not my king. It’s just—” he broke off, seeming at a loss for words, and the fight seemed to go out of him as abruptly as it had appeared.

“What if you decide to do something stupid?" he asked, his voice turning thick with emotion. "What if you decide to run into danger and you order me to stay behind? Or what if something happens out there while I’m sitting around inside dressing wounds! You _need_ me there to protect you, Arthur.”

“I have an entire army to protect me,” Arthur pointed out, but Merlin shook his head.

“You have an entire army to protect Camelot. You have _me_ to protect you. And yes, when it comes down to obeying my king or protecting my king, I’ve always chosen protecting you. And I probably always will. But it’s not just about whether or not I trust you,” he added, a note of pleading in his voice. "I know you'll always be willing to sacrifice yourself if you think that's what's best for Camelot. And I know I'll always believe having you on the throne _is_ what's best for Camelot. Your bravery is part of what makes you such a great king. You just need someone to… balance it out sometimes."

"The other side of the coin?" Arthur asked dryly.

Merlin gave him a hesitant smile. "Yes, Arthur. The other side of the coin."

Arthur sighed and stared at his servant. Merlin’s eyes were wide and bright with unshed tears, his face tight as he waited for Arthur’s response.

He hated how earnest Merlin could be. Someone who lied as much as Merlin shouldn’t be able to seem so guileless and sincere. It was why Arthur had believed him in the past when he’d said Arthur was a worthy king. Why he had believed that absurd story about a sword in a stone. Why he’d allowed Merlin’s faith and confidence to stir hope in him when they found themselves in utterly hopeless situations.

“And if I tell you to help Gaius in the infirmary tomorrow?” Arthur asked quietly.

“Then I will tell you I think that is a bad plan and try to convince you to reconsider,” Merlin said, lifting his chin stubbornly.

Arthur fought a smile at that. He would expect nothing less. “And if I reconsider and don’t change my mind?”

Merlin’s face tightened again, and Arthur’s smile fell. There was nothing funny about the conflict on his friend’s face. “Then I’ll go to the infirmary,” he agreed reluctantly. “But if it sounds like I’m needed more outside, I can’t promise I’ll stay there.”

It was a start, at least. And for now, it was enough. Arthur didn’t want Merlin to obey instead of thinking, after all.

“And if I asked you to help us fight tomorrow,” Arthur said softly. “What would you do then?”

Merlin blinked in surprise. “You’d order me to stay inside, but you’d ask me to fight?”

Arthur grimaced. “Magic is illegal, Merlin. And I’m going to have to figure out what to do about that. But in the meantime, I can't very well order you to use your magic to help us when you could still be arrested if the wrong person saw. So I am asking you to help us in the fight, but you can say no and I will not think any less of you.”

Merlin snorted in response. “I belong at your side, Arthur. You don’t have to ask.”

He didn’t have to ask. He knew that. Whatever problems the two of them may have to work through, Merlin was still the man who had joined him in every fight for the past ten years. The man who had said, “Nah, I've seen the woods already,” when Arthur tried to send him to safety.

But after everything they’d been through in recent weeks, he also knew it would be gravely unjust not to give Merlin the choice, even if he already knew the answer.

Merlin held his gaze, unblinking and determined, and Arthur swallowed a wave of emotion. He nodded his understanding instead of trying to speak, and Merlin nodded back, giving him a confident smile. And Arthur didn't know whether to feel grateful or annoyed that that smile could still make him feel like everything would be fine.

“You should eat something,” Merlin said, turning back to the table. “The knights are waiting.”

Arthur inhaled a small plate for food, still grabbing a bite or two even as Merlin helped him into his armor. His servant’s fingers moved swiftly over the clasps, long accustomed to the routine.

But when Merlin carried his crown over – a necessity for a war council – he paused, the metal resting lightly in his hands.

“You will be the greatest king Camelot has ever known, Arthur,” Merlin said quietly. “That’s not a children’s story. That’s not a lie.” Reaching out, he set the crown on Arthur’s head, adjusting it so it sat straight. “And I _do_ believe in you. I always have.”


	18. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two posts back-to-back in the eleventh hour (well, we'll call it one and a half, because the epilogue is short), but I managed to finish it on time!

"You look ridiculous," Arthur muttered to the cloaked man standing beside him.

"It's not like you gave me a lot of time to come up with a great disguise," Merlin retorted. "Besides, I'm not really going for style here. I just don't want people to recognize me."

"Believe me, Merlin, no one would believe it was you even if they did recognize you."

They were standing on the roof again, as they had two days earlier. But now instead of looking out over the beauty of Camelot's woods, they were watching the approach of Elric's army. All around them, Camelot's own army fell into position for the battle.

"You sure you're up to this?"

Merlin snorted.

"Am I up to helping you fight an army? That's actually not anything new for me, Arthur. This army isn't even magical."

"It will be different this time," Arthur pointed out. "People will see you help. After this battle, all of Camelot will be talking about the sorcerer who fought alongside the king."

Merlin smiled. "Maybe it will help people be less afraid of magic if they see it being used for good."

"And maybe someday magic can come back to Camelot?" Arthur raised his eyebrows at him and Merlin shrugged.

"It seems like it might not be a terrible first step."

To his relief, Arthur smiled back. "Not a bad first step at all." He hesitated. "Thank you, Merlin. For this, I mean. For standing against Elric. And for all of it. I know I didn't always make it easy on you. You're a loyal friend."

Merlin's eyes closed briefly. In his chest, something settled. Something that had churned and worried since he first set foot in Camelot was finally at peace. "Let's be honest, if you made it easy, I'd probably get bored. I'd have to find a more entertaining prat of a king to serve." 

"Good luck finding one who'd hire you," Arthur said with a snort. Then his expression turned serious and alert. "They're coming. All right, Emrys. You're up. Show Camelot what you can do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are truly the best! Thank you for sticking with this, especially since I know the desire to punch Arthur starting running high. If it makes you feel better, we can say he got punched off-screen during the battle. 
> 
> I know some of you were wanting to see BAMF Merlin, but this was back when I avoided writing any kind of battle scene like the plague, so I'm afraid the BAMF-ery all occurs offstage too. :(


End file.
